


Somewhere I Have Never Traveled, Gladly Beyond

by BlackJacketsandPens



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multi, but i'm not going to skip or ignore the other canon ships, kind of a series rewrite, shamelessly heading towards endgame spuffy, will also keep ship bias far far away from this fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-15 22:10:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 57,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3463913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackJacketsandPens/pseuds/BlackJacketsandPens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Realizing a little too late that they might have gotten the wrong Champion, the Powers That Be decide to give Spike a do-over, as it were. Replace him -- as he was when he sacrificed himself in the Hellmouth -- into the Slayer's story, right at the beginning, and let him do his job right. Of course, that's not going to be easy. But since when was anything easy in Sunnydale? (Basically a series rewrite; spoilers for, uh...pretty much the whole series within.)</p><p>Title is from the poem of the same name by e.e. cummings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome (Back) to Sunnyhell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever BtVS fic, and boy is it a doozy. I have the entire thing plotted out already, and it's...intimidating. But it's a project I will undertake but gladly. I'm honestly kind of terrified of writing the characters, but...were we go, I guess! 
> 
> Okay, let's get this party started. We open in Season 1, right after 'The Harvest'.

It was two nights after the whole Harvest deal that Buffy found herself in the school library after dark, leaning against the table with her arms crossed while Giles, Willow, and Xander sat in chairs around it – and all four of them were staring expectantly at their guest. Guest here being the guy who had turned up in their bedrooms (and in front of Buffy while she was patrolling) and made them meet him here. He was a little guy, in a hideous pattered shirt and a nifty hat, all smiles – the kind of smile Buffy was really tempted to punch right off his face.

“So are you gonna start talking anytime soon, Hat Guy, or do I need to be all persuasive?” She asked in irritation, flipping her hair. “I kinda have beauty sleep to catch up on, and slaying really cuts into that as it is.”

“Hold your horses, Miss Summers, we’re still waiting for one more guest— ah, here he is,” the little guy chirped, and her jaw dropped when she saw the tall, dark-haired man melt out of the shadows of the bookshelves behind them.

“You!” She yelped, pointing. “Angel!” She turned to Willow and Xander, who looked bemused. “That’s Angel! The guy I told you about! Mysterious Help-y Guy!” She emphasized her words with a wiggle of the hand that was pointing, studiously ignoring Angel’s raised eyebrow and amused expression.

“That’s me,” he replied with a shrug, nodding at the two teens and the librarian before looking over at Whistler. “Whistler,” he added, distaste coloring his voice. “What do you want us all here for?”

“You know the guy?” Buffy asked, arching a brow herself. Angel shrugged.

“Yeah, sort of,” he admitted. “He’s a demon go-between, an agent for the Powers That Be. Don’t know why he’s here, but it can’t be good.”

Whistler pouted, feigning hurt. “Ooh, you wound me. I’ll have you know that I come bearing both good news  _and_  a gift. A very nice gift, too.” He looked around, clearing his throat, and the rest of the room leaned in to listen. “See, here’s the thing. Buffy, it’s been prophesied that you, the Slayer, gets a Champion. Nice title and all that, right? You get one.” He paused, letting that sink in. Buffy grinned widely when it did – neat! Help! Someone who’s job it was to help her with slaying, someone less, er…breakable then Xander and Willow. She loved her new friends, but she still didn’t want them getting involved in her job. Especially after Jesse.

After a moment, Whistler continued. “So yeah, Champion. Good news. Bad news is, we got the wrong guy.” There was an affronted noise from Angel, who was staring at Whistler indignantly. The little guy grinned. “Oh, don’t worry your pretty little head, Angel. You’re still  _a_  Champion; just not  _hers_.” He let that hang for a moment, as Buffy turned to look at Angel, her turn to have a raised eyebrow trained on his sheepish expression.  _Oh, so is_ _ **that**_ _his deal…figures_ , she thought. Another beat, and the agent continued. “Unfortunately, we also were a bit late in realizing we had the wrong guy, and, well…he died before we could get to him properly.”

“Nice job,” Buffy groused. “So you come to tell me, what? Hey, you get a sidekick in slayage, but wait, no, sorry, you don’t ‘cause we messed up and he’s dead? Do I get a consolation prize, at least, or are you just here to be depressing and ruin my fun?”

Whistler snorted. “Well, that’s where the good news comes in. the Powers That Be have decided to give your Champion a do-over. He gets to come back, right here and right now, and do his job properly. Well, with the added bonus of his experience and memories from his first go-round, of course, since he wouldn’t be all that willing to help without it.”

“….Uh, am I the only one here hit with a sudden attack of the ‘huh’s?” Xander asked. “What the flippin’ heck is up with the terminology, there, big guy? Do-over? First go-round? What, did you hit a cosmic reset button or something oh god you did, didn’t you.” He stopped talking suddenly, eyes wide at the thought.

“Not a cosmic reset button, as such, no,” Whistler said with a laugh. “More like….alternate universes. His story, his  _timeline_ , let’s say, ended with his death. As such, the PTB are just….moving him into another timeline that hasn’t gotten quite off the ground yet. Basically, inserting him into your timeline at its earliest viable point, exactly as he was when he died.” There was a pause, as if he wasn’t exactly being truthful, before he continued. “The shiny new version of him you’re getting is gonna replace the version of him that already exists in this timeline, so there’s no worry about doubles. I’ll just pop out to get him, so give a guy a moment.”

“Hey, wait, don’t we get to know anything about this guy?” Buffy asked. “No name, age, favorite color, zodiac sign, nothin’? Kinda like to know a guy a little.”

Giles coughed, speaking up for the first time to add his agreement. “Yes, it, ah…it would be quite prudent for us to be made aware of just who we’re going to be accepting as Buffy’s… _Champion_ , before we meet him.”

Whistler paused, halfway out the door, and looked over his shoulder to grin. “True enough. I think I can leave that part up to Angel, though. After all, you know the guy pretty well, though I’m sure you wish you didn’t.” With that said, he disappeared into the darkened school, leaving the others to stare at the man in question.

He was silent a moment, brow furrowed as if racking his brain for who exactly the agent might be referring to, before his eyes widened comically. “Wait– no way–  _Spike!?”_  He yelped, looking shocked. “That’s— there’s no way!”

“W-Well, um…his name’s, uh…interesting…?” Willow spoke up finally. “I think? I-I mean…why do you sound so surprised?”

Angel shook his head, brow furrowing almost even more than before, arms crossed and face cloudy with confused anger. “He’s a vampire,” he explained, sounding a bit off. “I don’t understand why of all people, of all  _vampires_ ,  _Spike_  would be your Champion, Buffy.”

There had been a chorus of shocked yelps upon Angel’s first words, and Buffy stood boggling when he finished. “Yeah, so, vampire Champion does not actually fill me with warm fuzzy feelings in his general direction,” she said, her voice shrill. “I-I mean, in some weird alternate universe, maybe, ‘cause you know vampires can kinda keep up with me and all, but— okay, no, seriously, a vampire?! And— okay, why does Spike especially give you the wiggins, Angel, what’s his big deal, and please don’t be all cryptic, ‘cause I am really not in the mood for vagueness regarding my brand new vampire sidekick!”

Angel sighed, shaking his head. “Spike is…he’s young, compared to some, he’s only a hundred and twenty-something, if I remember right. But he’s…he’s reckless, hotheaded, and impulsive. He loves to fight, relishes violence and blood and carnage. He may not be one for torture, but he’s carved out a path of bloodshed throughout most of Europe in his day. He’s rude, sarcastic, incredibly disgusting, and he’s probably a little bit insane.” He paused, sighing and glancing over at Buffy. “He has a thing for Slayers. They’re a bit of an obsession of his – and when he gets an obsession, he doesn’t let go of it, ever. You can look it up, Giles,” he added, eyes going a bit distant. “He’s killed two Slayers.”

He fell silent, letting that sink in, before he continued. “He’s way, way worse than Luke, worse than any vampire in Sunnydale right now besides the Master.” His expression grew odd, and he shifted awkwardly. “A-Anyway, I really can’t see any good reason for  _him_ , of all people, to be anywhere near Buffy, let alone her Champion.”

There was a snort of laughter, and they all looked up to see Whistler back in the doorway, staring at angel with no small amount of scolding amusement. “Worse than any vamp in Sunnydale, huh, _Angelus_?” He asked, causing Angel to bristle. “Hey, don’t get huffy with me, it’s true. Let’s save the kids some time, here.” He waved a hand at the man, waiting for them to start their gears turning, before he continued. “Angelus – sorry,  _Angel_  – here shouldn’t be throwing any stones. I mean, he’s a vampire, too. Now, don’t get up—” he added sharply, as the rest of the group had started to stand, Buffy going for a stake, their expressions a matching set of shock and anger. “Angel is a card-carrying white hat, and has been since he got his soul cursed into him. I’ll vouch for the guy, since it was me who sent him here.”

Buffy dropped the stake back on the table, pouting as she glared between the agent and the vampire. “Seriously? You’re a  _vampire_. Like…a good vampire. And you were the first string Champion guy.” Angel nodded, and she groaned. “This. This is my life. My sidekick is a vampire. The universe is laughing at me.”

Angel looked sheepish, and glanced helplessly back at Whistler, who chuckled. “And as for Spike, don’t get all bent out of shape. This version’s not the one you’re oh-so-familiar with. He’s from the end of his timeline, remember? Which happens to be about seven years from now, give or take a few months.” There were confused expressions on every face, and the agent rolled his eyes. “Most importantly, he’s got a soul, too.”

There was a spurt of indignant sputtering from Angel, which eased the tension in the room somewhat and made Buffy grin. _Wow, jealous much?_  Kinda cute…and funny, knowing that the mysterious hottie was a vampire – a  _good_  vampire – wasn’t wigging her out as much anymore after the initial shock. He was still hot, after all…and a good guy…and that pout was really nice…okay, paying attention now.

Giles pulled his glasses off, rubbing them with a handkerchief. “So…we can trust this ‘Spike’ character, then, if he has a soul as well?” He asked, sounding resigned.

Before Whistler could answer, a new voice chimed in, the rough Cockney accent jolting everyone to attention. “Why don’t you ask the man ‘imself, Rupert? Be more polite, it would.” All five heads in the room turned sharply to look at the door, and the new, taller figure that had seemingly materialized out of the shadows of the unlit hallway outside to stand next to Whistler.

Buffy’s first thought was  _'This is Spike? Mr. I-Killed-Two-Slayers, Pervy Hothead Jerk Spike? Okay, either Angel just doesn't like this guy, or something seriously heavy happened to him.'_

He stood…hunched, somewhat, as if trying to be a bit less conspicuous, or as if he were uncomfortable under their scrutinizing and somewhat bewildered gaze. Which was a shame, Buffy decided, because honestly, he was kinda yummy. Or he would be if he didn’t look like he would rather be sitting in the Sahara at noon than in this room with them. He had a gorgeous face anyway, not gonna lie, she decided. Somehow angular and soft at the same time, with cheekbones you could kill someone with and a pair of the bluest eyes she’d ever seen – though the emotion in them made her a little nervous; more specifically, the lack of any at all. Even the other vampires she’d met had something in their eyes, hunger or rage or fear or  _something_ , but this guy…his eyes were empty and as dead as he was. Majorly wiggy. Her eyes tore themselves away from those pretty pretty (and creepy) blue eyes, glancing up to his oddly cute mess of curls, mostly a sort of mousy brown but with ends that tended more towards a sort of peroxide-y blond. Kinda like he bleached his hair but it grew out and he didn’t bother fixing it. Okay, stopping the frank hottie-appraisal now, Buffy, that’s two vampires you’re drooling over now. He was wearing black; a black t-shirt, jeans, and half-unlaced boots, and over it all a really kinda sexy leather duster, though it seemed to weigh him down, like it was a burden too heavy for him to carry.

He swallowed, she could see his throat work at the motion, and glanced to Whistler almost desperately when no one spoke. The demon shrugged and gestured vaguely. “Everyone, this is Spike. Spike, well, you know everyone already. Feel free to say hello and break the frankly incredibly awkward silence at any time, kiddos.”

Angel was the first to speak, surprisingly, stepping forward with an unreadable expression on his face that Buffy could swear held some kind of…concerned disbelief? Like a father seeing their son after they were away for a long time and they came back all…different. “Spike?” He asked cautiously, brow furrowed. “You…you really do have a soul.”

The other vampire’s lips twisted slightly, and he let out a slight snort of what could possibly be laughter. “Yeah, Peaches. Shiny new soul, only a year old. ‘S a baby compared to yours, innit?” He looked up to meet Angel’s eyes, and looked away almost immediately, clearly not liking what he saw there. “An’ no, it wasn’t a curse. Went an’ got it all on my own.”

Angel’s eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up, disbelief winning over concern. “You…got a soul? Willingly? Why would you ever do something like that, Spike? You’re not exactly the poster-child for Most Likely Vampire To Reform.”

Spike shrugged, and Buffy realized with a start his eyes had landed directly on her, pinning her with that empty blue gaze, and she could almost swear she saw something spark in them as he looked at her. “Love,” he replied to Angel, never taking his eyes off of the Slayer. “Did it for love. Hurts, yeah, but never gonna be sorry I did it.”

There was another long silence in the room after that, before Willow, nervously playing with a handy book, piped up. “Y-You went and got all, um…souly and good-guy for- for a girl? That’s really sweet, I think, and- and romantic, and I’m totally gonna shut up now sorry–” She trailed off, blinking as Spike’s eyes finally left Buffy and looked at her.

“Red,” he said quietly, and there was something in his voice…amazement. That was it. A sort of bewildered amazement. “God, you’re so young. Never thought…didn’t realize…bloody hell.” She shifted nervously, giving him a tiny smile that was actually pretty genuine; given how honest his expression was, she couldn’t help but like him…he seemed to have liked her, right? His eyes went to Xander, next, who was eyeing him with a combination of wariness and confusion. “An’ Harris,” he went on, expression not changing, but a slight bitter edge creeping into his voice. “Surprised you haven’t said somethin’ yet…don’ remember you bein’ the quiet sort.”

“H-Hey, well. Vampires, pretty new thing for me as it is without all the bonus features, so I’m having a mild case of overload. Definitely gonna be talky guy in a bit. Once, uh…my brain stops crying,” Xander grinned sheepishly, only for the grin to widen slightly as Spike let out another snort of sort-of laughter.

“Still with the wisecracks,” he muttered almost fondly, gaze shifting to Giles and shaking his head before landing once again on Buffy, who immediately got the feeling once again that he wasn’t looking at her, but through her. Had a thing for Slayers, didn’t he…? But for some reason, the vampire tinglies she got weren’t yelling ‘danger!’ any more than the usual. She blinked, though, when his expression shifted again, from that almost childish amazement to…something else. Something that sent a shiver down her spine and made her acutely aware that he had finally moved, slow steps forward until he stood in front of her, and she had to tilt her head slightly up to meet his gaze.

“Buffy,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper, and the way he said her name made her think of…church, almost. She couldn’t think of the word, but it began with an R. “God…you were so young. So…god. I had forgotten…” He trailed off, swallowing, and brought a hand – was it trembling? – up to hesitantly (as if he thought she would stake him if he got too close) brush a strand of hair behind her ear. It was weird, and she was probably only noticing because it kept her from thinking about how close he was and how pretty he was and the way he was looking at her, but he was actually breathing. Vampires didn’t need to, she knew that, but she could see the rise and fall of his chest and hear the rasps of his exhales, and finally she managed to pin the word she wanted down as she glanced back up at his eyes. Reverent.

And then the lightbulb went off, and her eyes widened – making him freeze like a startled rabbit, unmoving with his hand still raised – and she reached up to put her hand on his upraised one so near her face. “It’s me, isn’t it?” She asked, and her voice sounded a little far away, and all she could see was the terror in his eyes (making her wonder  _'Why is he afraid of me?'_ ) and his mouth working at an answer that wasn’t coming. “The person you got your soul for. It’s me. Or, it was…right?”

It was all he could do to keep his voice steady when he answered. “Y-Yeah,” he admitted quietly to a chorus of gasps and a muttered ‘good lord’ from Giles, tearing his gaze away from her to stare at the toes of his boots. “It’s you, Buffy. It’s been you…an’ it’ll always be you.”

Buffy was floored. This guy, this vampire she’d just met, who actually was from another timeline where she knew him a lot better probably, loved her. Loved her enough to willingly go looking for a soul and become a good guy. Change his entire nature, for her. It was…a bit overwhelming for a fifteen-going-on-sixteen year old, actually. That kind of love felt like it was grown-up stuff, not kiddie stuff like the wiggly tummy feelings she was sorta getting at Angel. It was scary. “Wow,” she managed finally, smiling a little mostly because she really didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “That’s…really…wow.”

Spike let out a soft chuckle, still not raising his gaze. “S’alright, pet,” he said. “You never felt the same back first time ‘round. Don’ expect you to this time, either. I jus’ want you to know…so you know you can trust me, I guess. Won’ let you down, Buffy, I’d dust first.”

Buffy sagged in relief at that. Oh, good. He’s not expecting her to leap into his arms and swoon. (Okay, that felt mean. She didn’t know him very well, but hey let’s not be mean to the poor guy). “Thanks,” she sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m…really, really flattered. Like, wow, you sure know what to say to a girl. And I super-appreciate the helpage.” Just…can we be friends first? She suddenly desperately wanted to be friends with him, if only to give him something in return for his clear devotion to her. She felt like he deserved that much.

He nodded and backed away from her, a bit quickly, causing him to stumble slightly, and he glanced back at Whistler awkwardly. “So, uh. Anythin’ else you wanna share with the class, then…?,” he muttered, trying to keep his eyes pointed at the floor.

The demon rolled his eyes. “Come on, you big chicken, look up. No one’s gonna stake you for being in love with her. Right, Angel?” A glare was shot at the other vampire, who looked rather miffed, but nodded. Sighing, Spike looked up, glancing from Willow’s encouraging smile to Xander’s bewildered solidarity to Giles’ bafflement…and Buffy’s accepting, if nervous, grin. Once the vampire had relaxed, Whistler continued, pulling a scrap of paper from a pocket.“Here’s your new address, Spike – you get a real apartment this time, no crypt for you–” – there were several incredulous noises, including a ‘you lived in a crypt?!’ from Xander – “And you’ll find it’s a rather convenient location for you. It’s got all your salvageable furniture in it and your fridge and pantry’s stocked; our treat.” The little demon grinned. “Take some time to reacquaint yourself with the gang, and then get some rest. I know you need it, and it’s gonna be a long few years”

That said, Whistler tipped his hat, and disappeared into the hallway…and then completely. Once he was gone, silence seemed to reign once again – everyone trying to avoid looking at everyone else, not knowing what to say. Finally, riding on a very rare spurt of bravery, Willow stood, edging over to Spike with wide, curious eyes.

“Um…hi,” she said nervously, biting her lip. Spike glanced up, his own expression shy and cautious, and she relaxed, smiling. “So, uh…it’s nice to meet you, Spike. I mean, for me, since you know me and all already, sort of, ‘cause you have a nickname for me and everything, which is actually kinda cool? I like having a nickname. Anyway, I think we should be friends— were we friends? Wait, does that even matter, ‘cause I want to be friends, and I’m rambling and should stop talking and, uh…” She trailed off, embarrassment mixing with…relief, maybe, as the vampire didn’t laugh, only looked at her with amused fondness.

“You stopped doin’ that so much as you got older, Red,” he said finally. “S’kinda cute.” He paused, and it seemed like the rest of her words belatedly kicked in, because his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open slightly in bewilderment. “…Friends?” He asked faintly.

Willow nodded, even more sure of her decision now that she saw how surprised he was at the concept. It was a familiar kind of expression, after all. “Yep! Friends.” She said, nodding. “Right, Xander? Buffy?”

Buffy nodded immediately, chiming in with her assent, but Xander frowned slightly, shifting in his seat. “Uh…” He began, but then he glanced over at Spike, who was watching him and seemingly waiting for him to speak…and stopped. Okay, so that was not what he had expected to see. And it made him a little uncomfortable, actually. He’d seen that kind of expression before, that sort of resigned bracing-for-it look that meant he was expecting to get a very negative response, and was used to it. He’d seen that expression before and it was really familiar, and seeing it directed at him made him distinctly uneasy. So, just for that, he grinned at the vampire. “Yeah, sure. I mean, vampires are not my favorite thing in the world right now, in fact they’re kinda on the bottom of the list, right above clowns, but…hey! First time for everything.”

The gobsmacked, almost hopeful look that graced Spike’s face was all but confirmation that he’d done the right thing, and Xander sat back, a little proud of himself.

“Well, now that, we’ve, ah…introduced ourselves…” Giles began, and the five others looked over at him. “It’s rather late, and as I’m fairly certain Buffy’s patrolled already, you should all head home.” He paused. “If someone would walk Spike to his apartment…?”

“I’ll do it!” Buffy said chirpily, walking over and taking the address out of Spike’s hand, waving it at Willow. “Where’s this, again?”

Willow giggled quietly, looking at the scrap of paper. “Oh, um…wait. You live on Revello, right?” She asked. “The- the complex is actually only a couple blocks away.”

“What?!” Spike asked, making a quiet, strangled noise before shaking his head bitterly. “Oh, I get it. Real bloody funny, Whistler.” He sighed, taking the paper back from Willow. “If it’s by your place, I can find it on my own, most like. Know my way ‘round Sunnydale, havin’ lived here for four years an’ all.”

Buffy pouted. “Y-Yeah, so? I’m still walking you. I mean, even better, since it’s on my way home anyway. You aren’t getting out of this that easy, mister,” she told him, wagging her finger. “And hey, Angel can c–” She stopped, pout deepening as she realized the other vampire had already left. “Never mind. Do all of you guys do that, or is he the only one?”

“You mighta made a complaint or three ‘bout it in my case,” Spike admitted. “But Count Forehead’s the reignin’ champ of the whole silent disappearin’ act. I think he practices it when he’s not practicin’ brooding.” He managed another slight grin at Xander’s snort of laughter, but as with all the rest of them, they dropped almost immediately back into the tired, empty sort of expression he seemed to be stuck on.

There were the usual nods and goodbyes, and Buffy departed, feeling Spike trailing behind her without needing to look. It was…comforting, in a weird way. The tinglies were still there, but the initial ‘danger!’ had worn off, and instead it was almost…just a quiet reminder of his presence, a prickle signaling ‘vampire’, but not in a bad way. Very weird. But at least that meant she knew he was following her, and hadn’t slipped off out of protest.

Deciding the silence had gotten eerie, she started talking. “So, uh…four years in Sunnydale, huh? Gotta say, that takes a lot. I mean, I haven’t even been here a whole week yet and I kinda wanna run screaming back to LA. Mostly because of Hellmouthy things, but…not exactly prime entertainment spot here, either. One can only go to the Bronze so many times a week.” She paused, grinning to herself. “I get the feeling I’m gonna be eating those words by the end of the school year. How’d you even make it that long, anyway?”

There was a long silence, and Buffy was about to ask if he was even paying attention, before he answered. “Watched the telly an’ drank, mostly. Hung around you an’ the Scoobies – that’s what you lot called yourselves, helped save the world or such from whatever was goin’ on. Hunted – not humans, mind, couldn’t do that. Long story, but blokes wired me up against my will, got a right nasty shock every time I tried to hurt one. So, demons an’ vamps instead. Wasn’t very fun, mind, you’re right on the nose with your ‘not so fun’ guess, luv. But it was somethin’ to do.”

Buffy laughed, shaking her head. She’d known both this guy and Angel about the same amount of time, now, but…they were really nothing alike. Knowing that Angel was a vampire made perfect sense – the vagueness, the mysteriousness, the disappearing…he was very Anne Rice, very vampire, and she was mildly annoyed her Slayer sense didn’t pick up on him. Maybe it was the hotness? Huh. But Spike…if it weren’t for the tinglies, she’d  _swear_  he was human.

“Wired you up?” She asked, making a face. “That’s kinda gross. Like Mad Science kind of stuff? I don’t think that and demons are very mixy.” She paused, a smile flitting across her face at his brief chuckle, and continued, a realization hitting her. “So, uh…wait. You said you only had your soul for a year. But you lived in Sunnydale for four. Does that mean…?”

Another chuckle. “Yeah, pet. Means what you think. I was helpin’ you lot for three years – varyin’ levels of duress, mind – without my soul. Had that chip I mentioned, which was what started me down the road to goodness, but not a shred o’ soul.” He sounded almost proud, and she had to laugh herself. “Wasn’t exactly trusted ‘round here, but I did help.”

“I believe you,” she said with a grin, finally glancing over her shoulder at him, trailing a couple feet behind her, duster blowing around his legs and the faded bleach-blond remnants shining like stars in his hair in the moonlight. He glanced up and grinned slightly back, before returning to staring around at him like a man that had returned home from a long time away, drinking in all the familiar sights with a distant look of nostalgia.

They stopped in front of the small apartment complex – it was three stories and gated, the apartments all facing inward to look over a neat little courtyard with benches and a small swimming pool. The whole place was painted a faded, pastel blue, and it looked…oddly homey. Spike and Buffy exchanged a look, and the vampire went through his pockets, pulling out a keyring that he was fairly sure hadn’t been there before. “The PTB think of everythin’, don’t they?” He muttered, glancing at the tag on the ring before looking back at her. “I’m in 203,” he told her. “Figured you might wanna know, pet.”

She nodded, smiling. “Sure do,” she said brightly. “I’ll see you around, Spike. It was nice meeting you.” They both made to split up, Spike heading to the front gate of the complex and Buffy continuing down the street to turn onto Revello, when she stopped. “And…thanks,” she added, unsure of exactly what she was thanking him for, but feeling like she should.

“…No, thank  _you_ , Buffy,” was the murmured reply, before there was a faint click and the soft clang of the gate closing.

She glanced behind her again, but he was gone, and she sighed. And just when she thought life on the Hellmouth was gonna be hard enough…well, maybe this new development would make things easier.

Time to sleep on it, she supposed.


	2. Which Witch?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically covering season 1 episode 3, 'Witch'. A lot of the text in this chapter comes from the episode 'Witch', by Dana Reston. (A good few chapters are gonna have episode dialogue in them, and I'll be sure to note when/which ones.)
> 
> I had both chapters 1-2 written before posting here, which is why they're up so fast. I've got a weird attention span, a near complete outline, and too much time on my hands, so with any luck, after this a new chapter will be up at least every other day or so. :) I really hope you all continue to enjoy it.

It was a few days after his arrival – during which none of the others caught much of a glimpse of him – that Giles entered the library one morning to catch, much to his surprise, the new addition to their group, sitting in one of the chairs around the table that took up the lower level of the place (carefully out of the range of the skylight) and leafing through a book.

He’d changed his clothes, it seemed, to a more…casual set of an olive green shirt under a dark-colored dress shirt, and honestly, Giles decided, if it weren’t for last night’s events, the man would have easily passed for human in his eyes. A strange thought, for the Watcher – his training had been rather uncompromising in terms of vampires; soulless demons, the lot of them. Evil. No capacity for human emotion, and never to be trusted. And yet, if Whistler was to be believed, the man sitting before him had willingly sought out a soul for the sake of love…something he had been certain no vampire would, or could, ever do. It wasn’t an easy task to reconcile that with the Council’s teachings. (And the fact that it was love of  _his_  Slayer was a facet of the information he was not going to think about.)

“Ta, Rupert,” the man in question murmured, not looking up. “You gonna stand there gapin’ at me all day? Thought you might have work to do.” Giles jumped guiltily, adjusting his glasses as he moved past him to his office, though one eye remained on Spike.

“My apologies, Spike,” he replied sheepishly. “I just…wait, how are you here?” He asked, glancing up at the skylight. “It’s well past dawn. How did you…?”

The vampire did look up this time, grinning slightly. “Got here  _before_  dawn, actually. Know how to get ‘round the school fairly well. Don’t have much to do otherwise, so figured I could loiter about and give you a hard time, be here for the inevitable meetings I’d miss due to flammability an’ all.” The admission seemed to make him self-conscious, and he ran a hand through his brown curls. “I mean, if you want me around. Never liked me much, last time.”

Giles’ brows raised behind his glasses. He was not a stupid man, and it wasn’t hard to puzzle out the reason for Spike’s behavior. “I’ll remind you, Spike, that this is not last time. Unlike your previous experience, I’ve only known you for a few hours time, if that. I’m not quite certain  _what_ my opinion on you is, just yet. But I can assure you, at the moment I don’t dislike you. Your presence is welcome.”

“Oh,” came the reply, sounding embarrassed, before he shifted and seemed to try to regain some dignity. “Thanks, Rupert.”

Giles shook his head, mildly amused. “Nothing to thank me for, Spike. Besides, it will be nice to have you for our meetings, such as they are. I have the feeling our other vampire is not so, ah…accommodating, when it comes to going out in daylight.” The two men shared a grin, Spike’s a bit surprised.

“Don’t like Peaches, then?” He asked. “Not that I blame you. He’s a right poncy git. Any case, I’ve never been one to let a li’l sun stop me. Get a nice thick blanket, you can pretty much get anywhere if you’re quick about it.” He glanced back to the book he was paging through. “Besides, got used to bein’ part of your group meetings. I’d miss ‘em if I didn’t go.”

Giles decided not to comment on the first part of his reply, and watched the vampire with mild bemusement – a vampire unafraid of sunlight? Unheard of. And yet, proof sat here inches away from the pool of light, fingers dancing on the table in the bars of shadow between the panes. Spike certainly seemed to be an odd duck, where vampires were concerned.

The conversation seemingly over, the two men fell into a surprisingly companionable silence, Spike continuing to read at the table while Giles worked in his office. After a while, the only sound was the occasional turn of a page and the scribbling of ink on paper.

Unfortunately, the quiet was rudely shattered that afternoon, as the doors banged open with a cheery cry of “Hi, Giles!” Both men jumped, startled, Giles stumbling out of his office and adjusting his glasses while Spike bent to pick up the book he’d dropped. Probably a good thing, seeing as Giles stopped where he was, eyes bulged slightly out as he saw what his Slayer was wearing.

“What— what on  _Earth_ , Buffy?!” He yelped, causing the girl to grin sheepishly. “Are you seriously— please tell me I’m not seeing what I think I am.”

The girl grinned. “I would, but then I’d be lying,” she chirped. “I’m trying out. What do you think, Giles?”

“What do I– ?” Giles pulled off his glasses, frustrated. “This is madness, Buffy! What can you have been thinking?! You are the Slayer! Lives depend upon you!” He shook his head, pacing. “I make allowances for your youth, but I expect a certain amount of responsibility, and instead of which you enslave yourself to this- this-” He stopped, waving the hand holding his glasses vaguely at her. “Cult!”

Buffy pouted. “You don’t like the color?” She asked innocently, gesturing at the cheerleading outfit she wore.

There was a split second pause, which was interrupted by a burst of stunned laughter from Spike, who had just looked up. Buffy’s pout deepened, and she leveled an offended glare at the vampire, who was currently doubled up in his seat and shaking with silent mirth.

Giles glanced at the near-hysterical Spike, before looking back at Buffy with no small amount of exasperation. “I don’t…” He began, and just sighed. “Do you, um…do you ignore everything I say as a- as a rule?” He asked, returning the glasses to his face and absently shifting some books from the table to a cart.

Buffy shrugged. “No, I believe that’s your trick,” she replied pertly, which caused another snort from the vampire. “I told you,” she added, posing (mostly for the clearly amused Spike’s benefit). “I’m trying out for the cheerleading squad!”

Giles groaned, moving the full cart away from the table. “You have a sacred birthright, Buffy. You were chosen to destroy vampires, not to…wave pompoms at people. And as the Watcher, I forbid it.”

Spike’s laughter died down, and his brow furrowed as he glanced at Giles before meeting Buffy’s gaze, his face showing his own approval, making her grin. “And you’ll be stopping me…how?” She asked.

Giles blinked. ‘Well, I…” He paused, leaning against the table and crossing his arms. “By appealing to your common sense, if such a creature exists.”

Buffy shook her head, crossing her own arms stubbornly. “I will still have time to fight the forces of evil, okay? I just wanna have a life, I wanna do something normal. Something safe.” She paused, glancing at the other man in the room. “Spike approves!” She added, as if it were her trump card, before waving. “Gotta go, tryouts are in ten, bye!”

She darted out of the room before Giles could protest again, and then the Watcher turned to level an exasperated expression at the vampire, who was trying to look innocent but mostly looking like he was about to start laughing again. “You approve of this- this…dereliction of duty?” He asked sharply. “I would imagine you knew better.”

He had not been expecting the response he got. Spike unfolded himself from his seat, taking a quick step forward to their faces were inches apart, his own suddenly deadly serious – an eerie effect when coupled with the lack of expression in his eyes. “Yeah, Rupert,” he said softly. “I approve. Girl’s got to have some normality in ‘er life. She’s the bloody  _Slayer_ , mate, she’s never gonna have a proper life. Never gonna grow up, have kids, get old an’ die old like any other bloke. Hell, you an’ I both know most Slayers don’t live all that long anyway.” He closed his eyes a moment, as if in pain, before continuing. “She ain’t gonna have a normal life. Let her get her tastes of it while she— when she can. Let ‘er pretend a while, yeah? Least we can do is to give ‘er something, sometimes. It’ll kill ‘er if we don’t.”

Giles was silent, sighing. “As much as I am loathe to admit it, Spike, you may have a point. And Buffy is…certainly unlike anything I was prepared for. Perhaps allowing her some leeway will have a positive effect on her slaying, instead.”

“Yeah…” Spike murmured. “She’s sure as hell somethin’ else. No one else like ‘er.”

The men fell silent a moment, before Spike awkwardly moved away, suddenly rather too aware of the sunlight almost falling on him where he stood. Giles coughed, adjusted his glasses, and stepped back into the office, also rather too British to acknowledge the moment.

The silence reigned for another half hour, maybe, before the doors burst open again and the three teens barreled, clamoring for attention. The only audible words, at first, seemed to be ‘on fire’, and ‘holy crap’, and ‘cheerleader’, but eventually the story managed to come out – apparently a cheerleader had…randomly started burning while doing her audition, completely out of nowhere.

“An’ you’re sure she ain’t a vampire, pet?” Spike joked quietly, eyebrow raised, managing to get a snort from Xander.

“Totally sure. Amber’s definitely not fangy,” Buffy replied, frowning. “I’ve been slaying vampires for more than a year, now. I’ve seen some pretty cringeworthy stuff, but nobody’s hands ever got toasted.”

Giles came out of the cage where he’d been shifting some books, frowning. “I imagine not,” he said, causing Buffy’s frown to deepen.

“So this is not a vampire problem?” She asked, and both Giles and Spike shook their heads.

“Nope,” Spike replied. “If she ain’t a vamp, it’s not a vampire thing. Gotta be somethin’ else.” He paused, glancing around at the eyes on him, shifting in his seat.

Buffy nodded absently. “But it is funky, right? Not of the norm?” She actually didn’t know who to look at, now, gaze going back and forth between Watcher and vampire. Both of them seemed equally smart about this stuff.

“Quite,” Giles replied first. “Spontaneous human combustion is rare, and scientifically unexplainable. But there’ve been cases reported for hundreds of years. Usually all that’s left is a pile of ashes.”

All eyes flickered to Spike – seeing as that’s about the same reaction he would have to exposure to flame – but quickly glanced away at his troubled expression. Willow nodded, trying to continue the conversation. “That’s all that would have been left of Amber if it weren’t for Buffy.”

“So we have no idea what caused this?” Xander asked, more to the point. “That’s a comfort.”

Giles grinned. “Well, that is the thrill of living on a Hellmouth – one has a veritable cornucopia of fiends, devils, and ghouls to engage–” He stopped, blinking, as he realized four pairs of eyes were staring at him incredulously. “Pardon me for finding the glass half full,” he grumbled.

“Only you, Rupert,” Spike muttered, amused.

Buffy looked thoughtful. “Any common denominator in cases of spontaneous combustion?” She asked, grinning at the mild surprise at her big-word usage.

“Ah…rage,” Giles noted. “In most cases the person who combusted was terribly angry or upset.”

“So maybe Amber’s got this power to make herself be on fire,” Xander suggested with a grin. “Like the Human Torch, only it hurts.”

Spike shook his head. “Doubt it, Harris. Never heard o’ somethin’ like that without the person in question knowin’ about it. An’ from what you said, the girl wasn’t exactly expectin’ it.” He paused, realizing eyes were on him again, and shifted again, fiddling with the book on the table next to him. “Jus’ my two pence, that is.”

Giles smiled over at the vampire encouragingly. “It’s valued, as is everyone else’s, Spike. Do you have any ideas on what our foe might be?” He asked, quietly enjoying the expression on the man’s face, which only confirmed his suspicion: Spike, despite his professed regular presence at the meetings, had not exactly been welcome there. It was going to take a lot of work before he realized that this was not the same as in his experience, it seemed – that he was  _wanted_  here, and so was his help.

“Ah, well…” He fumbled, cursing himself inwardly for seemingly being unable to find his equilibrium, even after nearly a week here. Things were too familiar, and too unfamiliar at the same time, and he just couldn’t seem to settle. “Ain’t it obvious? If it ain’t the girl doin’ it to ‘erself, ‘s gotta be someone else doin’ it to ‘er.” A pause, and a light seemed to dawn. “Maybe we’re dealin’ with magic.”

“Magic?” Willow asked. “Really?” He nodded.

Buffy grinned. “Well, hey. It’s a start!” She crossed her arms. “So let’s see if we can get the skinny on Amber, see if there’s been any accidents around her before, or, like…anyone she’s pissed off recently, right?”

Willow’s eyes lit up. “Ooh! That means hacking illegally into the school’s computer system – at last, something I can do.”

“And I’ll ask around about her,” Xander volunteered. Buffy didn’t seem too pleased, though.

She shook her head. “Guys, you don’t have to get involved,” she said, frowning.

“What do you mean?” Xander asked, bewildered. “We’re a team! Aren’t we a team?”

“Yeah,” Willow agreed. “You’re the Slayer and we’re like…the Slayerettes.”

“Scoobies,” corrected Spike, who froze when they all looked at him. “It’s…you lot called yourselves that when I knew you,” he muttered.

Willow grinned at him, running with his comment. “Yeah, that’s good too! We’re the Scooby Gang, we solve mysteries! As a team!” A pause. “Only, uh…we don’t pull off the monster masks and find out they’re really Mr. Wilson, my math teacher.”

Buffy managed a small grin at that, but shook her head. “I don’t want you putting yourselves in danger,” she said, still firm.

“I laugh in the face of danger!” Xander protested, before laughing sheepishly. “Then I hide until it goes away.”

Buffy opened her mouth to protest again, but Spike shook his head. “Let ‘em, Buffy. They’ll be alright,” he told her, and she sighed, rolling her eyes in defeat.

“Fine, okay, you win,” she grumbled. “Just…walk softly, okay? At least until we know a little more. I mean…if it really is someone else trying to hurt Amber…” She paused, glancing at Giles. “What do we do?”

Giles looked solemn. “Well, then we have to determine who or what  _is_ , and…deal with it accordingly.”

The three teens trickled back out after that, Willow shutting down the computer and favoring Spike with a smile as she left. He watched after them a moment, before glancing over at Giles, who was packing up to leave himself. “Anythin’ I can do, Rupert?” He asked carefully, standing and running a hand through his hair. “Or s’it too early in the game?”

Giles glanced up, shaking his head. “Not in our current predicament, no, but if you’d like to patrol…I’m sure Buffy could always use an extra pair of hands and eyes.” He paused and sighed. “If she even  _is_  patrolling…sometimes I’m not so certain. Perhaps you could make sure she does?”

“Can’t make ‘er do anythin’ she doesn’t wanna do, mate,” Spike said dryly. “Jus’ makes her harder to handle. But I’ll do a run-through of the cemeteries, if you want. Know ‘em all like the back of my hand, an’…right, Buffy’s still new to the place, so havin’ someone who knows their way around might help.” He almost sounded excited, which pleased the Watcher – he’d been mildly concerned with the supposedly obnoxious vampire’s relative silence throughout the day, as well as his clear, incredibly low expectations of how he was to be treated. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much, though…perhaps simply that he didn’t like seeing someone like this, somehow a shadow of who they were supposed to be.

“That would be a great help to Buffy, yes,” he agreed, shouldering his bag and watching Spike once again unfold himself from where he was slouched in a chair. “I suppose I will see you tomorrow when I arrive, then?”

Spike blinked, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I guess. You didn’t mind me bein’ here, then?”

“Not at all. In fact, I rather enjoyed your presence. And seeing as you have a great deal of experience, I could use your help in researching what exactly we’re dealing with,” Giles responded, pleased at the flicker of amazement on his face. —God above, he had enough on his plate taking care of his Slayer. He really didn’t need to be looking after a rather out-of-place vampire as well. And yet…

\--------------------------

Nothing further happened until the second day after Amber’s little fire incident – the three teens hadn’t been able to find much of anything about the girl, or anyone who’d hate her enough to want to hurt her. Meanwhile, Giles and Spike had been hitting the books, but were just as unlucky, given the lack of information they had.

However, that afternoon at lunchtime, once again the three burst in, news all but pouring out of them – something else had happened, now. A student had gone all but blind, and nearly got hit by a car. Giles, perversely, seemed to brighten at the news, though.

“Witchcraft!” He said, scrambling through the books upon the table to pick one up. “Spike seems to have been correct. Blinding your enemy to disable and disorient them is a classic.” He flipped to a page, holding the book for the teens to see.

Xander groaned. “First vampires, now witches…no wonder you can still afford a house in Sunnydale.”

Giles replaced the book on the table, frowning in thought and pointedly ignoring Xander’s comment. “But why would someone want to harm Cordelia?”

“Maybe because they met her?” Willow asked innocently, making Spike and Xander laugh as she reddened. “Did I say that?”

“Then why was Amber set ablaze?” Giles asked, trying to puzzle out the answer.

Xander nodded. “Yeah, those guys don’t hang.”

The room fell silent a moment, before Buffy stood, eyes wide with realization. “They’re both cheerleaders,” she declared.

“Someone doesn’t like cheerleading,” Giles said dryly, but Buffy shook her head.

“Or likes it too much,” she corrected, and Willow’s head came up from the book she was idly flipping through.

“Amy!” she said, surprised.

Buffy nodded. “Amy.”

Xander chuckled softly. “So you guys are leaning towards Amy,” he joked, glancing around at the girls.

“Amy…” Spike muttered. “Name sounds familiar. Think you might be right, but my memory’s a bit fuzzy.”

“Well, that settles it, then!” Buffy said triumphantly. “She’s desperate to get on that team— I get the feeling she’d do anything to make her mom’s dream come true.”

Giles’ brow furrowed, and he removed his glasses to rub his face. “Uh, let me make sure I have this right. This witch is casting horrible and disfiguring spells so that she can…become a cheerleader?”

There was a moment of silence as the ridiculous of the concept seemed to finally sink in, but then Buffy shook her head. “I think you’re underestimating the amount of pressure a parent can lay on you. If you’re not a picture perfect carbon copy they tend to wig.”

Willow nodded. “Cheerleading was kind of her mom’s last hurrah,” she added.

“Okay, but look, we still have to stop Amy,” Xander pointed out. “We should grab her and—”

“I think we should be sure she’s the witch before we arouse her suspicions,” Giles interrupted. “She’s- she’s capable of some fairly unpleasant things.”

Spike nodded. “Like I said, pretty sure bint’s the witch, but I don’t remember. Better safe than sorry. Magic can be right nasty, trust me.” He made a face, shaking his head. “Not my favorite thing, magic.”

Buffy nodded. “Okay, alright, so…” She stood, beginning to pace. “You’re in high school, you are desperate to make the team and please your mom, so you turn to witchcraft. What’s the first thing you’re gonna do?”

“Check out the books on witchcraft!” Willow piped up, grinning, and stood to move over to the computer alongside Buffy, sitting down and booting the thing up. Spike was watching them – more particularly Willow – when he noticed Xander bolt up in his seat and scurry behind the girls, looking mildly panicked.

“Uh— no!” He protested. “No, that would be the  _last_  thing you would do! You don’t wanna leave a paper trail. Forget that!”

“It’ll just take a minute,” Willow replied, continuing to type and mostly oblivious to Xander’s flailing.

“We don’t have a minute! Cheerleaders are in danger. Buffy’s in danger!” He yelped, grabbing Buffy’s shoulders lightly and trying to steer her way from the computer. “You were first alternate, you are on the team now that Cordelia’s out. You could be next. We gotta get you to a safe house.”

Unfortunately for Xander, Willow’s eyebrows chose that moment to raise as she stared at the screen. “Xander…” She said slowly.

He gulped. “Yeah…?”

She glanced over at him, sighing heavily, before reading the list off the monitor. “’Witches: Historic Roots to Modern Practice’. Checked out by Alexander Harris.”

Buffy glanced over Willow’s shoulder, her own eyebrows rising. “’The Pagan Rites’, checked out by Alexander—”

“Alright, Alright!” Xander cried, looking rather red-faced. “It’s not what you think.”

Spike’s scarred eyebrow lifted, and he was trying not to laugh. “Bet you like peepin’ at all the half-naked chits in the pictures, Harris,” he said dryly.

Xander blinked, red deepening. “Oh. Well, uh…I-I guess it  _is_  what you think,” he muttered, to a chorus of laughter from Spike and the girls.

Giles coughed impatiently. “Have you all quite finished?” He asked, mildly annoyed, and the group fell sheepishly silent. “We have to find a conclusive test. There may be something in here…” He murmured, picking up a book and flipping through it. “Yes, this should do it,” he said after a few moments. “You’ll need some of her hair, a little quicksilver, and some aqua fortis.”

“Well, that’s just mercury and nitric acid,” Willow noted, smiling. “You can get that in the science lab.”

Giles nodded, reading the instructions out of the book. “’Heat ingredients and apply to witch, and if a spell has been cast in the previous 48 hours, witches skin turns blue.’ Hm.” He closed the book, glancing at them. “Oh, and you’ll need some eye of newt.”

A quick discussion about newt vs. frog later, and the teens had departed, leaving Giles to glance back at Spike, who seemed to be in a somewhat good mood for once. “I’m certainly glad to have you around, I must say, Spike,” he told the vampire, whose slight smile dropped immediately into surprise. Giles smiled faintly and continued. “You’re very much able to- to, ah…bridge the gap, in a way, between myself and the three of them. It’s quite appreciated.”

“Uh…don’ mention it, Rupert,” Spike replied, still startled at the praise, before changing the subject. “So, what’re we gonna do with the witch once we get ‘er caught out? I mean, she’s only human. Right petty bint, but human.”

Giles blinked, frowning. “I hadn’t actually thought that far,” he admitted. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, I suppose. It all depends on her reaction when we confront her. Either way, I doubt harming her seriously is feasible. As you say, she  _is_  only human, and a teenaged girl at that. With any luck, she can simply be talked out of it.”

Spike nodded slowly. “Mm,” he muttered, staring at the door to the library. “With any luck.”

\----------------------------------

They didn’t have to wait long for answers; after the test that afternoon was positive, it seemed that all they had to do was confront her. However, the very next day, it seemed that the witch had preempted them completely.

Spike was on his feet in an instant the moment Willow and Xander burst in, carrying a semi-conscious and moaning Buffy between them. “Buffy!” He yelped, nearly running over to them and scooping her up in his arms. “What the bloody hell happened to her?” He demanded, head swiveling from the worried duo to Giles.

“Let me see,” Giles replied, eyes wide and beginning to rummage through his books as Spike gingerly set Buffy down on a chair, letting her head rest on his lap while Willow ran and got a wet cloth to put on her forehead. She turned, wringing her hands as Spike ministered to Buffy, three faces wearing identical expressions of near frantic worry.

“We’ve gotta get her to a hospital!” Willow cried.

Giles shook his head, face pale. “They can’t help her,” he muttered, moving over to where Buffy lay and checking her pulse. “This is a bloodstone vengeance spell,” he told them, causing Spike’s face to change from worry to anger. “Hits the body hard like a-a quart of alcohol, and then it eradicates the…uh, the immune system.”

“A vengeance spell?” Xander asked, shifting from foot to foot. “Like she’s trying to get even with Buffy?”

“It’s ‘cause she knows I know she’s a witch,” Buffy said weakly, shifting somewhat.

Giles nodded, looking incredibly solemn. “The others she just wanted out of the running. You she intends to, um…” He trailed off, looking down.

“Kill?” Buffy asked dryly, causing Spike to let out a growl that startled all of them with its intensity.

“How much time do we have?” He demanded.

Giles swallowed. “Oh, uh…I’m sure…”

Buffy shifted to stare at him pointedly; or as best she could in her condition. “Truth. Please.”

“Couple of hours…” Giles admitted weakly. “Three at most.”

Another growl echoed around the room, and Xander nodded. “Y-Yeah, what he said,” he said firmly. “How do we reverse the spell, then?”

Giles stood from where he’d slumped in a seat. “Well, I-I’ve been researching that, and, uh…we can reverse all the spells if, um…” He took his glasses off and rubbed his face. “If we can just lay our hands on- on Amy’s spellbook.”

“And if we can’t get a hold of it?” Willow asked quietly.

Giles frowned. ‘Well, the other way is to cut the witch’s head off,” he admitted, replacing his glasses.

“Show of hands!” Xander exclaimed, raising his and wiggling it a bit, glancing over at the agitated Spike as if expecting him to agree.

Buffy shook her head, though, wincing. “It’s not Amy’s fault,” she told him. “She only became a witch to survive her mother…”

“Look,” Xander said firmly, trying not to get too worked up and failing. “I don’t care why. I just care that you go on breathing. Right, Spike?”

Spike glanced at him, face still tight with concern and badly hidden rage. “Normally, mate, I’d be behind you all th’ way,” he told him. “Part of me still is, anyway. I mean, c’mon, vampire. But she’s human. Witch or not, d’you really wanna be a murderer, Harris?”

Xander winced, shaking his head and biting his lip. Buffy nodded slightly, glancing up gratefuly at Spike before looking over at Giles. “Giles, where would she be casting these spells?”

Giles blinked. “Oh, she needs a- a sacred space. A-a-a pentagram, um, large pot.”

“Her home,” Buffy decided.”Okay, help me up.” Spike shifted, and he and Willow helped Buffy to her feet. “We’ll just go to her house and we’ll get her book.”

Willow nodded. “Okay, we’ll go with you,” she said, and Spike seemed to agree, already reaching for his jacket.

“No!” Buffy said sharply, stopping them mid-movement. “You guys stay here and keep an eye on Amy.”

Spike looked mutinous. “Buffy, you’ve got a hex on you, an’ it’s killin’ you! I’m not gonna let you—” She cut him off, glaring.

“No, you’re not,” she said, annoyed. “I’m going whether you want to  _let_  me or not, Spike. You help Xander and Willow.” A pause, and she wasn’t sure if she was saying it because she was annoyed at his attempt to baby her or because the spell was making her feel icky. “Besides, you can’t go out in sunlight anyway, and I kinda don’t want a dusty Champion.”

Spike seemed to flinch at her irritation, backing off immediately, and Giles put an arm around her. “I’ll take care of her, don’t worry,” he reassured them. “And keep Amy away from the science lab. We’ll need it to cast our counter-spells.”

That said, the two departed. Xander sighed, shaking his head and glancing at the other two, while Willow hesitantly patted Spike – whose expression had shifted back to that odd emptiness from when he’d arrived, despite it having appeared less and less of late – on the arm.

After looks were exchanged, the three of them headed to the gym, Spike being careful to step around pools of sunlight – though it wasn’t terribly difficult, after all his practice. Xander and Willow headed to the stands once they were there, watching Amy and the other cheerleaders perform while Spike leaned in the shadows by the door, ready to move should the witch try to leave.

As the routine continued, Spike leaned forward, almost smelling the magic in the air as Amy seemed to falter slightly.  _Seems like things are goin’ well so far_ , he thought, a thin smile of satisfaction crossing his face. A few moments later, she fumbled again, nearly toppling all the girls around her, and when she bolted out the door, he followed, throwing a glance over his shoulder at the duo in the stands, who were right behind him.

He was fast, faster than Amy at a dead run, so he caught up to her as she stormed through a door, grabbing her by the arm. She froze, spinning to glare at him. “Get out of my way!” She snapped.

“Not likely, luv,” he replied, tightening his grip. “I know what you are an’ what you’re up to. Don’ even bother lyin’, now, I can  _smell_  the magic on you. You ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

Amy struggled, pushing on his hand, but he held firm, mouth set in a firm line and eyes cold. “Fightin’ me’s jus’ gonna make it hurt more, pet,” he said quietly. “Hold tight, now, an’ it’ll all be over soon.”

Her eyes flashed, and she stopped struggling, hand snapping up as if she were grabbing his throat, and his eyes widened as she closed the fist, twisting sharply, and he let go with a choked gasp, dropping to his knees as his hands went to his throat.

“Spike!” Willow shouted, coming up from behind him, only to be backhanded into the wall, Xander joining her. It only took another half-moment for the vampire to recover and leap back to his feet, eyes blazing – the initial shock of  _ican’tbreathe_  replaced by remembering he didn’t  _need_ to — but it was enough to let Amy get her head start back.

“Go!” Xander told him, helping Willow up, and he did, bolting as fast as his vampiric speed would let him.

He got to the lab right behind her, nearly leaping at her as she lifted the fire ax she’d retrieved to start smashing down the door. She paused mid-swing, twisting it to slam into his face, and smashed a hole into the door as he shook himself off. She managed to get the door unlocked, and now Spike could hear Giles bellowing the end of the spell as Amy threw the door open, and he was right behind her as she moved towards the frighteningly pale Buffy.

A flash of light stopped everything, and when it cleared, the first thing Spike was aware of was that the witch’s scent had changed – not to mention the fact that she looked absolutely bewildered. The next thing he noticed was that Buffy seemed to be much better. “Amy?” She asked, staring at the girl.

“Buffy—?” Came the hesitant reply, but any further conversation was interrupted as an unfamiliar woman lunged at Buffy, knocking her to the floor before throwing her arm out in Spike’s direction and sending him back into one of the tables hard enough to nearly flip him over it. Giles made to move, and she pointed at him, too, sending a desk nearly flying into him and sending him crumpling to the floor.

“You!” She snarled at Amy, who was cowering behind the fire ax. “You little brat!”

Amy looked panicked, but determined as she shifted her grip on the ax. “Mom, please!,” She begged, and suddenly things made sense to Spike, as he picked himself up from where the woman had knocked him. The woman threw her hand out again, and the ax tore itself out from Amy’s hands and slapped into hers.

“How dare you raise your hand to your mother!” She snarled, face twisted in rage. “I gave you birth. I gave up my life so you could drag that worthless carcass around and call it living?!” She swung the ax angrily, slamming it into the table next to her. “You’ve never been anything but trouble. I’m going to put you where you can’t make trouble again!”

Before she could continue, the air around her already sparking with black magic that made a shiver run down Spike’s spine, Buffy seemingly materialized behind the woman, grinning brightly. “Hey, guess what?” She chirped, as the woman turned. “I feel better!”

She slammed her fist into the woman, knocking her across the room and onto a lab table, though she immediately stood up. “That body was mine!” She howled. “Mine!”

It was Spike’s turn to move behind her, and he grabbed her neck roughly from behind, an odd grin forming on his face. “Mums shouldn’t be so rude to their kids, y’know, you nasty ol’ bint,” he snarled, throwing her forward across another lab table.

She staggered to her feet, still sparking, and gestured widely, magic slamming both Spike and Buffy crashing into the walls. They leaped almost immediately to their feet, but they were too late – the woman’s eyes flooded with familiar black, and she pointed at Buffy, voice shrill. “I shall look upon my enemy!” She screamed. “I shall look upon her, and the dark place will have her soul! Corsheth, take her!”

“Buffy, the mirror!” Spike shouted, and Buffy looked up, knocking the pole holding the huge lab mirror away and letting it swing down just as the woman finished the spell, and the blast of magic that burst from her hands slammed into it…sending it right back at her. She let out a scream as it hit her, the energy twisting around her, and with a rush of air, she vanished.

There was silence in the room, the three of them staringat the place where Amy’s mother had been, before a soft groan alerted them to Giles’ presence, and Buffy crouched to help him up. “Well,” he managed. “That was, um…interesting.”

Buffy nodded, amused, and helped him up before glancing around. “You guys okay?” She asked.

“I’m fine,” Amy replied, smiling slightly, and Spike nodded.

“Takes more than that to bother me, luv,” he added, before looking around. “Seems like all th’ spells have been reversed, then. Good job, mate,” he grinned at Giles. “Not bad for a stuffy ol’ git like you.”

Giles leveled an only mildly annoyed glare at him, alleviated slightly by Buffy grinning. “Yeah, Giles, you saved my life! You were a god!”

Amy shrugged nervously. “I…I didn’t think you’d pull it off,” she admitted.

At that point, Xander and Willow crashed awkwardly into the room, Xander grabbing Amy by the shoulder and wrist. “I got her, I got her, cut her head off!” He babbled, not really processing the situation.

Spike snorted, pushing him away from Amy with only a little more force than strictly necessary. “Harris, mate, it’s over. She’s not our witch,” he said, causing Xander to blink in confusion.

“But she was—” he began, and Amy shook her head in embarrassment.

“I was my mom,” she explained, and the duo blinked.

“Oh,” Xander said, and they all fell silent, just kind of looking at each other awkwardly before eventually kind of edging out of the wrecked lab, mumbling sheepish goodbyes and heading their separate ways.

“Y’know,” Spike spoke up randomly, while they were all still in earshot, and they all turned to look at him. “I bloody well  _hate_  magic.”

A chorus of laughter broke the tension, and with that, they all headed home.

 


	3. She's A Maneater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I continue to start each chapter late and post it at ungodly hours of the morning. Oops.
> 
> Some dialogue is from the episode 'Teacher's Pet' by David Greenwalt.

The next week or so after the incident with the Madisons was quiet. It was almost eerie, to Spike, how little there was going on. As he’d promised to Giles, he accompanied Buffy when she patrolled most nights, but it was near a miracle if they ran into more than one vampire, if that. It set him on edge; he could feel the Master’s presence below the the town, like a faint pulse in the back of his head, and maybe it was the fact that by the time he’d settled in town for good the nights were always busy, but he couldn’t help but feel like they were waiting for something to come. He wondered absently if this is how it had been the first time, if this is what Angel was feeling— of course, that immediately ended that thought process there. They may share the same bloodline, but by no means did he want to go out of his way to interact with the other vampire. ****

Honestly, he’d rather not go out of his way to interact with _anyone._  Spending the days in the library with Giles was alright, seeing as the other Brit didn’t bother him, the two men doing their own thing, but…it was hard. His last sight had been her face, tired and world-weary, and now he saw her as she’d been seven years earlier. Innocent, bright-eyed…the world hadn’t eaten her away yet. Red was all smiles, hadn’t even thought of touching magics yet. Harris had both eyes, hadn’t even considered having a girl yet. So many ‘yet’s. They were innocent, naïve – immature. Frustrating. And they were kind to him, which threw him most of all. He could laugh at how much of a ponce he was being, that kindness and friendship where he’d been near  _trained_  to expect distrust and dislike was rendering him near unable to speak without choking on embarrassment or insecurity.

He was just… _tired_. He’d stay in the library on weekdays from dawn to dusk, and aside from the couple hours he and Buffy took to patrol, he’d sleep like a dead man the whole night. He’d arsed up his entire schedule, he knew, but didn’t actually care. He’d eat when he remembered, but otherwise most of his free time was taken up by sleeping. He hadn’t even seen the Bronze since he’d arrived, though Buffy had tried to get him to come once or twice. He wondered when she’d give up.  _If_  she’d give up; she was incredibly stubborn, after all. God, even thinking about all this exhausted him. Sod the PTB – they apparently hadn’t cared what condition they’d delivered him in, as long as he was here, hadn’t they? And he was the one that suffered for it.

That thought just plain bugged him. And so, next time Buffy asked if he wanted to come with them to the Bronze, he agreed. If just to metaphorically flip the bird at the men upstairs for the shoddy state they’d deposited him here in.

Though as he sat next to Buffy and Willow, listening to them talk about this and that and nursing his beer, he was beginning to second-guess his grand idea. The atmosphere was honestly more relaxing than a club really should be, mostly due to its familiarity, but he still felt out of place next to the two girls. He wondered absently where Xander was.

“—Spike, you aren’t listening, are you?” He blinked, glancing over at Buffy, who was looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Ah— ‘course I was, pet,” he lied, but paused for a second. “….Did you ask me somethin’?”

Buffy rolled her eyes, but she was unable to keep an amused smile off her lips. “No, not really. But you’ve been kinda eerily silent over there the past twenty minutes, and your beer’s probably all warm and gross. I was starting to get a little wigged.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, taking a swig of his – indeed warm – beer. “Jus’ thinkin’ about this ‘n that.”

Willow smiled at him. “It’s okay. We were just talking about school stuff, anyway. Do you think Buffy’s teachers would accept ‘I was slaying vampires all night’ as an excuse for not doing her homework?”

Spike managed a snort of laughter. “Likely not, luv. Though not for lack of tryin’.”

The trio shared a smile, and got up to head back down the stairs to the ground floor when Xander swooped up behind them, throwing his arms around their shoulders with a purposefully loud greeting of “Babes!”

“What are you doing?” Buffy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Xander lowered his voice to a stage-whisper. “Work with me here. Blayne had the nerve to question my manliness. I’m just gonna give him a visual. Uh, Spike, feel free to look badass. That would probably help, too.”

Spike’s mouth twitched into an amused smirk as Willow all but threw her arms around Xander’s waist, beaming. “We’ll show him!” She declared. Grinning widely, Xander threw a glance over his shoulder at the bar – or probably at certain people at the bar – raising a hand in a thumbs-up before returning his arm to Willow’s shoulder.

Before anyone could say anything else, it seemed like Buffy and Spike sensed him at the same time. It was different for each of them – Buffy’s tinglies going off loud and clear, while that familial sort of pulse in the back of Spike’s head started up. Two blond heads turned at the same time in the same direction, two different expressions on them.

“I don’t believe it,” Buffy muttered.

Xander chuckled, oblivious. “I know, and after all my conquests— hey?” His grin faded as Buffy pulled away, wandering over in the direction of the new arrival – Angel. The other two followed her path, and Xander’s grin disappeared completely. “Oh,” he muttered. “ _Angel._ ”

Willow’s eyes widened. “Hey, he’s back! I haven’t, uh…haven’t seen him around since Spike got here,” she said, glancing worriedly from Xander’s frown to Spike’s glare. “Erm…guys?”

“Yeah, and I was kinda hoping it would stay that way,” Xander grumbled. “He’s buff. And brooding. And attractive. I don’t like him.”

Spike snorted. “Join th’ club, Harris. You can be vice-prez, since I founded it an’ all,” he replied, his voice a similar grumble.

The three watched them talk quietly, Spike’s eyes narrowed in annoyance as his vampiric hearing was able to pick up their conversation – and two matching affronted noises escaped the two boys when the dark-haired vampire draped his jacket around Buffy’s shoulders.

“Oh, right!” Xander yelped. “Give her your jacket. It’s a balmy night, no one needs to be trading clothing out here!”

Spike had a rather different complaint. “Oi, right here, y’great poof,” he snarled. “Mind not hittin’ on the girl I’m in love with in front of me? I know you know I can see you. Wanker.”

Willow sighed, taking both of the boys by a forearm. “Oookay, then, I think we should vacate the premises before one of you manly men get into a bar fight or something. I kinda like the Bronze in one piece,” she mumbled, steering them away towards the exit.

Of course, that meant Spike’s mood was utterly ruined the rest of the night, even skipping meeting Buffy for patrol. Funny how Angel was so good at that. Must have perfected it in all the years they had known each other…just bloody great. But nonetheless, he, too, would keep an eye out for the whoever-it-was that he’d overheard the git warn Buffy about – some guy with, as Buffy so singularly put it, a ‘big fork’.

The next day saw him still sulking, staring grumpily at a book open on his lap – not quite bothering to actually  _read_  it, as he was too busy doodling unflattering (and bad) caricatures of Angel on a notepad. No one ever said he wasn’t petty. (Because he was very, very petty.)

“Spike?” Giles asked, exiting his office with a frown. “Is something the matter?”

He jumped, dropping the pen and glancing up at the Watcher. “What—? No! No, nothin’s wrong,” he said quickly, hurriedly turning the notepad over. “You got anythin’ on the so-called fork-totin’ bloke the great git told Buffy about?”

Giles’ mouth twitched in amusement, having caught a glimpse of the notepad and being well aware of who Spike was referring to. Sometimes he wondered if the vampire was really over a hundred years old – sometimes he acted almost more juvenile than the teenagers he associated with. “Well, yes, actually. I believe I’ve actually found our—”

He was interrupted by the now familiar noise of Buffy and the others bursting through the doors, the three of them wearing identical faces of pale, drawn horror – and Buffy herself seemed near tears. Spike was on his feet instantly, and he led Buffy to sit down as Giles got the story out from Xander and Willow — Cordelia had found a teacher’s headless body in a cafeteria freezer.

Giles brought Buffy a glass of water where she sat on the steps with Willow and Spike, his arm around her shoulders. “Here, drink this,” he said kindly.

“No, thank you,” she mumbled, but sipped at it absently anyway, wiping some tears off her face.

Xander was leaning against the counter, looking a bit ashen. “I’ve never seen…” He tried, shaking his head. “I mean, I’ve never seen anything like…that- that was new.”

“Who would wanna hurt Dr. Gregory?” Willow asked sadly.

Giles frowned. “Uh, he didn’t have any enemies on the staff that I’m aware of. He was a civilized man. I liked him.”

“So did I,” Buffy whispered, and Willow patted her leg, before looking up at Giles, face resolved.

“Well, we’re gonna find out who did this,” she declared. “We’ll find them and we’ll stop them.”

Buffy seemed to rouse herself somewhat at the words, nodding. “Count on it.”

“Well, then, what do we know so far?” Spike asked, keeping an eye on Buffy.

Buffy shrugged. “Oh, not a lot, um…” She paused, sniffling. “He was killed here on campus. I’m guessing the last day we saw him, uh…yesterday.”

“How do you work that out?” Giles asked.

Buffy glanced up. “He didn’t change his clothing.”

They all fell silent a moment, before Xander piped up, voice still shaken and awkward. “This is a question that no one particularly wants to hear, but…where did they put his head?”

Willow made a face, grossed out. “Good point. I  _didn’t_  want to hear that.”

“Angel!” Buffy yelped suddenly, standing sharply and startling Willow and Spike, whose bad mood immediately decided to return. “He warned me that something was coming.”

Spike made a face. “Yeah, he did at that, but ‘bout what? Some bloke with a fork? Rupert, you were tellin’ me somethin’ before these three came in with our headless teach. What were you gonna say?”

Giles shrugged helplessly. “I wish I knew for certain. I was going to say, i’ve been trying to gather more information about the Master, our, uh, local vampire king,” he explained, pausing at the amused snort from Spike before continuing. “There was one oblique reference to a-a- vampire who displeased the master and cut his hand off in penance.”

“Cut off his hand and replaced it with a  _fork_?” Buffy asked, incredulous.

Giles shrugged. “I don’t know what he replaced it with.”

“So, why would he come after a teacher?” Xander asked, but Spike shook his head.

“Don’t think it’s him, mate,” he told the boy. “Vamps don’t usually do beheadin’s unless they’re feelin’ creative, an’ from your description, I don’t think that’s how I’d describe it.”

Giles nodded. “Right, ah…” He moved over to where Xander was standing, picking up an old newspaper. “here was an incident two nights ago, uh, involving a homeless person in Weatherly Park. He was practically shredded, but nothing like Dr. Gregory.”

He held out the paper to Buffy, who took it and glanced over it. “So we’re guessing Fork Guy doesn’t do heads,” she noted.

“Not historically,” Giles replied.

Buffy nodded. “And his blood wasn’t drained, so…yeah. Not a vampire.”

“So there’s something else out there? Besides Silverware Man?” He said, voice a bit shrill. “Oh, this is fun, we’re on Monster Island!”

Buffy smiled slightly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “We’re on a Hellmouth. It’s a center of mystical convergence. Guess it’s the same thing.”

“Well, unpleasant things do gravitate here, it’s true, but…we don’t know there’s anything besides this chap. He’s still our likely suspect,” Giles replied. “It may be unlikely, but we’ll have to presume it’s him until we have more conclusive proof it’s something else.”

Buffy nodded. “Where was that guy killed?” She asked. “Weatherly Park?”

“Buffy,” Giles said in warning, and Spike stood to support him.

“I know that tone of voice, Buffy,” the vampire warned. “This bloke’s death has got to you but good, I know. An’ you’re nowhere near at your best when you’re like this. Wait ‘til we know for sure it’s this guy or not before you go out an’ look for trouble, yeah?”

Giles nodded. “Agreed. This is no time to go hunting, not until we know more. Please promise us you won’t do anything rash?”

Buffy sighed loudly, crossing her arms. “Cross my heart,” she said, sounding sincere enough. But Spike knew her better then that…he’d have to head to the park himself tonight, then. He had a feeling he might be needed.

In the end he’d ended up falling asleep longer than he’d wanted to, but he made it to the park around ten, leaping the fence easily and following Buffy’s familiar scent through the park. It was easy to track – and it was almost funny, somehow, that she seemed to have always used the same shampoo. His nose wrinkled as he picked up the scent of a vampire as well, and picked up the pace, catching up with Buffy  as she hit the far end of the park, standing beside her as they watched the bewildering scene play out before them.

The vampire she’d been stalking really did have a massive, forked piece of metal in place of his hand, it seemed, and looked rather disgusting besides. As they watched, the vampire seemed to approach a woman walking down the sidewalk across the street…only to freeze in terror when the woman turned to look at him, turning and bolting in the opposite direction, practically throwing himself down a manhole cover. The two of them exchanged a shocked look, before Spike leaped the fence again, making to follow the woman – who’d continued to head down the street. He hadn’t gotten more than a few yards before the her scent hit him, and he froze himself, staring at her in confused disgust as she walked away.

“Spike?” Buffy asked, jogging up to him, her own face still a mask of confusion. “What the hell just happened?”

\--------------------------------

As soon as Giles arrived at the library the next morning, Spike was grabbing his arm and pulling him into his office, where Buffy was waiting. “What’s all this?” He asked, somewhat bewildered.

“I, uh— don’t get mad, Giles,” Buffy began. “I kinda went looking for Fork Guy last night—”

Giles interrupted, a brow raised. “You went hunting last night?” He asked, sounding more than anything like an exasperated parent.

“Yep,” Buffy replied.

“When you assured me you wouldn’t?”

Buffy nodded, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I lied, I’m a bad person. Spike was there. Let’s move on.”

Giles sighed, glancing over at Spike – leaning against the door frame – before starting to bustle about his office, opening the file cabinet. “Did you- did you see our…forked friend in question, then?” He asked.

“More like a jumbo claw,” Buffy said dryly, causing Giles to turn around, startled.

“Oh,” he said, blinking. “Well, ah, at least you’re not hurt.”

Buffy shrugged. “I saw something else, though. Something much more interesting than your average run-of-the-mill killer vampire.”

“Oh?” Giles asked.

She nodded, glancing over at Spike again. “Do you know Miss French, the teacher that’s subbing for Dr. Gregory?”

To Spike’s amusement – and, knowing what he knew, mild concern — Giles perked up, smiling somewhat. “Yes,” he replied. “Yes, she’s lovely—” He stopped, catching their expressions. “In a-a common, extremely well-proportioned way.” He added lamely, hurrying to look away as he stuffed soe files in the cabinet.

Buffy snorted. “Well, I’m chasing Claw Guy last night, and Miss ‘Well-Proportioned’ is heading home. The Claw Guy takes one look at her and runs screaming for cover,” she explained. “And Spike made to go after her, and  _he_ stopped dead, looking major-league wigged.”

Giles’ eyes widened, and he turned to look at Spike. “Miss French—? Really?” He asked. “Can you tell us anything about last night, Spike?”

He nodded, making a face at the memory. “Pheromones,” he explained shortly. “She bloody well reeked of ‘em. She’s a predator, mate, an’ a damn good one, whatever she is. Could smell it all over her. Lucky me I’m more in control of myself than most, otherwise you’d have seen me runnin’ away like Claw did.” He shook his head. “Whatever the bitch is, she’s dangerous, I can tell you that much.”

“Good lord,” Giles muttered, taking off his glasses to rub his face.

Buffy frowned. “So…what do we do?”

Giles sighted, replacing his glasses. “I think perhaps it would be a good idea to keep an eye on her,” he said, glancing at the two in his office.

“Got it,” Buffy agreed, nodding and grabbing her books and her jacket – _Angel’s_ jacket, Spike noted with a grimace – before standing. “Then I better get to class,” she declared, hurrying off.

With her gone, the two men shared a look, and Giles paused, brow furrowing as if something had just occurred to him. “…Pheromones?” He asked, and Spike sighed, trying to hide his amusement.

It was much later – the two men having dived into research in an attempt to figure out what exactly their predatory teacher was – that Willow and Buffy entered the library, mid-conversation.

“No, I’m not saying she craned her neck,” Buffy was telling the other girl. “We are talking full-on Exorcist twist.”

Willow winced. “Ouch.”

Buffy nodded, still frowning. “Which reminds me, how come Blayne, who worked with her one-on-one yesterday, isn’t here today.”

“Inquiring minds wanna know,” Willow said with a grin, heading over to the computer while Buffy went over to the two men.

“Any luck?” She asked.

Giles shook his head. “Um, not so far,” he admitted. “I’ve not found any creature as yet that fits Spike’s description of what you two witnessed last night.”

Buffy glanced over at the books on the table. “Try looking under things that can turn their heads all the way around,” she suggested dryly.

“Nothing human can do that,” Giles said, and Spike snorted.

“Well, obviously not,” he pointed out with a smirk, before looking over at Buffy. “You seem like you’ve got an idea, pet.”

She nodded. “Nothing human, yeah. But there are some insects that can. Whatever she is, I’m gonna be ready for her.”

Spike’s eyes widened. “Insect?” He asked, sounding mildly alarmed. “What makes you think she’s an insect?”

Buffy just grinned at him, and Giles raised an eyebrow. “What are you going to do?” He asked.

She paused, halfway to the shelves, and turned back to them triumphantly. “My homework,” she replied. Willow smiled slightly and Spike snorted, only for Buffy to return moments later, sheepish. “Uh…where are the books on bugs?” She asked, causing more laughter.

There was silence for a while longer, as Willow worked at the computer and the other three were studying their respective books – broken, after a while, by Buffy heading out of the shelves at speed, waving a book open to several glossy photos of praying mantises.

“Dig this—” She began, grinning widely and reading out of the book. “’The praying mantis can rotate its head 180 degrees while waiting for its next meal to walk by.’” She slammed the book closed with a loud “Ha!” only to be met with silence. She pouted. “Well, c’mon, guys. Ha!”

Willow shook her head. “Well, but…Miss French is sort of…big, for a bug?”

“And she is, by and large, woman shaped,” Giles added.

Spike stood, expression still filled with alarm. “I still wanna know where the bloody hell insects came from, Buffy,” he said, voice just a bit on edge.

Buffy grinned, making her way over to them. “Okay. Factoid one – Miss French was totally obsessed with praying mantises the other day in class, like calling them noble and solitary and totally sounding all mushy about ‘em. Factoid two— only the praying mantis can rotate its head like that. Factoid three— a pretty whacked-out vampire is scared to death of her, and she even wigged Spike out hardcore. Factoid four— her fashion sense screams predator anyway.”

“It’s the shoulder pads,” Willow nodded.

Buffy grinned. “Exactly.”

Giles looked thoughtful, putting his book down. “If you’re right, then she’d have to be a shapeshifter or a perception distorter…” He mused aloud. “Half a moment…I had a chum at Oxford, Carlyle, advanced degrees in entomology and mythology…”

“Entoma-who?” Buffy asked, wrinkling her nose.

Spike snorted softly. “Bugs an’ fairy tales,” he clarified.

“I knew that!” Buffy protested, embarrassed, but looked back over at Giles, who was still pondering.

“If I recall correctly, poor old Carlyle, just before he went mad, claimed there was some beast…” Giles said to himself.

Before he could go on, the computer beeped, and a moment later Willow yelped. “Buffy, 911! Blayne’s mom called the school. He never came home last night.”

“The boy who worked with Miss French yesterday?” Giles asked, eyes widening.

Willow nodded. “Yeah! If Miss French is responsible for…” She trailed off, expression dropping in horror. “Xander’s supposed to be helping her right now! He’s got a crush on a giant insect!” She cried, panicked.

“Okay, don’t panic,” Buffy tried. “I’ll warn him. But I need you to hack into the coroner’s office for me.”

Willow nodded slowly. “Well, what are we looking for?” She asked.

“Autopsy on Dr. Gregory,” Buffy replied. “I’ve been trying to figure out these marks that I saw on his corpse…I’m thinking they were teeth. And, uh, these cuddlies?” She held up the book again, pointing to a picture inside that made Willow wince. “Should definitely be brushing after every meal.” As Willow got to work, she turned to Giles. “And you were saying something about a beast?”

He nodded, moving to head to his office. “Oh, yes, I just need to make one transatlantic telephone call,” he said absently, before turning back to them. “Um, this…computer invasion that Willow’s performing on the coroner’s office, one- one assumes it’s entirely legal?”

Buffy and Willow looked at each other, nodding and replying quickly and simultaneously with assurances that it was. He nodded, bemused, and shook his head. “Right. Wasn’t here, didn’t see it, couldn’t have stopped you.”

“Good idea,” Buffy replied, motioning at Spike. “C’mon, Spike, we have a hormonal teenage boy to warn,” she said cheerily, and the two left to find him in the halls.

Unfortunately, he was outside when they caught up to him, but luckily the sun was beginning to set, and they managed to catch him under a shaded path “Hey!” Buffy called as they ran up.

“Hey!” Xander piped, grinning widely – almost stupidly happy, much to Spike’s dismay. The kid was  _covered_  in the woman’s pheromones, he could smell it. It was giving him a headache, and it was only the residue. That boded well.

“So, how’d it go with Miss French?” Buffy asked politely, trying to steer the conversation how she needed it to go.

“Well,” Xander began obliviously. “It’s a bit demanding being her absolute favorite guy in the universe, but I’ll muddle through.”

Spike muttered something under his breath. “Harris, she’s not what you think she is,” he said sharply.

“I know,” Xander replied dreamily. “She’s so much more.”

Buffy groaned. “Okay, look, um…I’m gonna have to tell you something about her, and I’m gonna need you to really listen, okay?”

“Okay,” Xander nodded.

Buffy took a deep breath. “I don’t think she’s human.”

Xander blinked. “I see. So if she’s not human, she’s…?”

“Technically, mate?” Spike answered. “A great big bloody insect.”

There was silence for a long moment, before Xander just started laughing.

“This sounds really weird, I’m aware of that…” Buffy admitted, but Xander cut her off, still grinning.

“It doesn’t sound weird at all,” Xander replied. “I completely understand. I’ve met someone, and you’re jealous.”

“What?!” Buffy and Spike demanded in unison.

He nodded sagely. “Look, there’s nothing I can do about it,” he told them. “There’s just this certain chemical thing between Miss French and me.”

“Yeah, mate, s’ called pheromones,” Spike snapped. “It’s a kinda chemical insects an’ other predators give off to lure prey – like  _you_ , you berk.”

Xander shook his head, his eyes flashing. “She’s not an insect!” He snapped back, startling both of them. “She’s a woman, okay? And as hard as that may be for you to conceive, an  _actual_   _woman_  finds me attractive.” He turned to glare at Buffy. “I realize it’s no mystery guy handing out leather jackets, and while we’re on the subject what kind of a girlie name is  _Angel,_  anyway?” He paused, and turned to Spike, still angry. “And I know, I know, it’s probably hard for a handsome guy like you to believe, but hey, I like her,  _and_  she likes me back. No wonder you’re jealous.”

Spike flinched, anger disappearing as his face closed off, while Buffy sputtered in surprised frustration. “What does that have to do with—?”

“Nothing!” Xander said heatedly. “It just kinda bugs me. Look, I really gotta go.” He shook his head and ran off, Buffy watching him go.

“I…what…?” She mumbled, glancing over at Spike in concern. “H-Hey, he didn’t mean that,” she tried. “It’s those insect-y pheromones talking. He’s not thinking straight.”

Spike looked away, face still shuttered. “Right,” he mumbled. “Didn’t mean it.”

Buffy looked worried, but grabbed his arm and pulled him back to the library. They entered as Giles was speaking on the phone, his voice intense and somewhat rougher than usual. “Frankly, madam, I haven’t the faintest idea what time it is, nor do I care. Now, unlock his cell, unstrap him, and bring him to the telephone immediately! This is a matter of life and death!”

Buffy and Spike exchanged a quick glance, and he went to sit down and watch Giles, while Buffy grabbed her bug book and moved over to Willow as she continued to work on the computer.

“Got it!” She cried, finally. “Coroner’s report, complete with— ew!” She made a face. “Color pictures.”

Buffy leaned over her shoulder. “There  _are_  teeth marks,” she said proudly, holding up a page of the book. “Which match perfectly the one insect that nips off its prey’s head.”

“Okay,” Willow whimpered. “I-I don’t like this…”

Buffy continued looking at the book. “It’s the way they feed, head first. It’s also the way they mate. The female bits off the male’s head while they’re—”

“You can stop right there, luv,” Spike asked, voice unsteady and looking a little green. “Heard enough, thanks.”

Willow, too, seemed upset. “No, no, no!” She protested, panicked. “See? Xander’s— I like his head! I-it’s where you find his eyes, and his hair, and his adorable smile…”

“Hey, hey, take it easy, Willow,” Buffy tried to reassure her. “Xander is not in any immediate danger. I saw him leave school. He’s probably safe at home right now.”

Giles seemed to pause, shaking his head and retreating into his office, speaking hurriedly into the phone for a few minutes while Buffy tried to comfort Willow and Spike fiddled with his notepad, still a little green. Why the bloody hell did it have to be a great bloody  _insect_ , of all things?

Eventually Giles came out of his office, glancing at the three of them. “Dr. Ferris Carlyle spent years transcribing a lost pre-Germanic language. What he discovered he kept to himself until several teenage boys were murdered in the Cotswolds. Then he went hunting for it.”

“ _It_  being…?” Buffy prompted.

Giles adjusted his glasses. “Uh, he calls her a She-Mantis. This type of creature, the  _Kleptes-Virgo_ , or-or  _virgin-thief,_ appears in many cultures. The Greek sirens, the Celtic sea maidens, who tore the living flesh from the bones of—”

“On a time frame, here, Rupert!” Spike snapped impatiently.

Giles blinked, shaking his head. “Right, ah, well, basically, the- the She-Mantis assumes the form of a beautiful woman and lures innocent virgins back to her nest.”

“At least  _I’m_  safe, then,” Spike muttered dryly.

Buffy laughed weakly. “Virgins? Well, Xander’s not a— I mean, he’s probably…”

“Gonna die!” Willow yelped, fully in panic-mode, hurrying to the phone.

Buffy took a deep breath, shaking her head to clear it. “Okay, okay,” she began, starting to pace. “So this thing is breeding and we need to find it and snuff it. Any tips on the snuffing part?” She asked hopefully.

“Uh, Carlyle recommends cleaving all body parts with a sharp blade,” Giles replied, causing Buffy to grin.

“Slice and dice,” she said happily.

Giles nodded. “Whatever you do, it had better be certain and swift. This beast is extremely dangerous.”

Buffy shrugged, still grinning. “Well, your buddy Carlyle faced it, and he’s still around.”

“Yes, in a straitjacket, howling his innards out day and night,” Giles deadpanned, causing Buffy to glare at him.

“Okay, Admiral, way to inspire the troops!” She snapped, and he looked sheepish.

“Sorry…” He muttered, and they all glanced at Willow as she got off the phone, panic even more evident.

“Xander’s not home!” She wailed. “He told his mom he was going to his teacher’s house to work on a science project, he didn’t tell her where!”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “Willow, see if you can get her address off the substitute rolls,” she directed. “Giles, you need to record bat sonar, and fast!”

“Bat sonar, right,” Giles repeated, then paused, frowning in confusion. “What?”

Buffy grinned. “Bats eat them,”she explained, shoving Giles up the stairs while Spike and Willow got to work behind her. “The mantis hears sonar, its entire nervous system goes kaplooey.”

“Where am I going to find the—” Giles began, but Buffy shoved him at the door in the back marked Videos.

“In the vid library?” She suggested pointedly. “There’s no books, but it’s dark and musty, you’ll feel right at home, go!” She watched him hurry in the room before bounding back to Spike, grabbing his arm. “We’ll handle the armory,” she declared.

They got back a short while later, Buffy carrying her bag of toys and Spike right behind her. Willow looked up from her spot at the printer. “Getting her address!” She called over.

“Great!” Buffy replied. “Giles?”

Giles hurried down the stairs, holding a cassette recorder. “Recording bat sonar is something soothingly akin to having one’s teeth drilled,” he commented dryly, making Spike snort quietly.

“Right, then. Let’s go fetch Harris from his gruesome fate, shall we?” He asked, and the four of them headed out.

Once they got to the house, though, it was discovered to their frustrated dismay that their she-mantis had used false papers to get into the school – the real Natalie French was a very old, retired woman very much unlike the monster in question.

“What do we do now?” Willow asked frantically as they headed down the street.

Giles looked grim. “Abject prayer and supplication come to mind,” he sighed.

“We saw her walking past this park with her grocery bags,” Buffy grumbled. “She lives in this neighborhood.”

Willow looked around, starting to bolt for the neighboring house. “I’m gonna start banging on doors,” she declared, but Spike grabbed her arm.

“Don’t have time for that, Red,” he said sharply.

Willow looked desperate. “We have to do something!”

“We will,” Buffy reassured her, looking over at Spike. “Do you think you can, like…track her scent?” She asked.

He grinned weakly. “Thought you’d never ask, pet,” he replied, glancing around and taking a deep breath. “Somethin’ I’m good at.” He took a few steps forward, head swiveling side to side as he tried to pinpoint the stench of her pheromones, and then stopped. “This way!” He called, already breaking into a run.

He led them down the street, glancing from house to house as he trailed the scent, finally coming to a halt in front of one specific one, white picket fence and all. “Here,” he said, gesturing. “She’s here.”

Buffy nodded, glancing the place over and seeing the dim light in the basement window, and broke into a dead run, smashing into the window and sliding in through it, weapons bag right behind her.

Spike, Willow, and Giles were right behind her, sliding in through the window – Spike was the first in, and he froze in his tracks as he got a good glimpse of the massive praying mantis Buffy was battling. Willow was already opening the cage with the other missing boy in it, and Giles grabbed Spike’s arm as he dragged him over  to Xander, the two men bending to untie him.

“Get them outta here!” Buffy cried, grabbing the tape recorder and glaring up at the mantis. “Remember Dr. Gregory?” She demanded. “You scarfed his head? Yeah, well, he taught me—  you do your homework, you learn stuff. Like what happens to your nervous system when you hear this!”

She hit the play button, and after a moment’s pause— Giles’ voice came out of the player, causing them to stare at the thing in disbelief, Spike letting out a weak, somewhat nervous laugh.

“The wrong side!” Giles called, pointing frantically.

Before she could fix the tape, the mantis knocked the thing out of her hand along with her weapon, and Giles bolted to get the recorder while Buffy went after the monster herself. They fought, and Spike seemed to finally shake off his initial panic upon seeing the thing, leaping onto it’s back with a snarl, trying to distract it. In the meantime Buffy dove for the machete she’d been wielding, just as Giles found the recorder, fixing the tape and pressing the play button hurriedly. A high-pitched keening sound – the sonar – echoed throughout the room, making the mantis screech in pain, flailing about frantically. Spike, still holding onto the insect, let out a cry of pain himself, letting go of the mantis and dropping to the floor, clapping his hands over his ears.

Buffy hesitated only long enough for Xander to drag Spike out of the way before she advanced on the she-mantis, grinning viciously. “Bat sonar,” she said, hefting her weapon. “Makes your whole nervous system go to hell. You can go there with it!”

With that said, she attacked the mantis, angrily and methodically slashing it into pieces. When she was done, she dropped the blade, leaning on her knees and panting. Giles shut off the tape recorder, standing, and the rest of them stared at the remains of the insect in varying states of exhaustion and bemusement.

“Well, I…” Giles began awkwardly. “I’d say it’s deceased.”

Willow nodded. “And dissected,” she added helpfully.

Xander let out a long, deep exhale, helping Spike to his feet and letting the vampire lean on him before looking over at Buffy. “You okay?” He asked, and sighed again when she nodded, grinning weakly. “Just for the record, you two were right, I’m an idiot, and God bless you,” he said feelingly.

Buffy grinned slightly, and Xander glanced over to the others. “And thank you guys, too,” he added.

That said, and a few jabs at Xander’s – and Blayne’s, apparently – virginity later, Xander and Spike methodically hacked apart the entire nest of eggs before the group all left, going their separate ways.

Well, Spike took a slight detour on the way back to his apartment. He did remember his way around the sewers, thankfully, and he’d long since gotten into the habit of carrying a stake with him. And he was in the mood to kill something. Claw Boy would have to do.

And he did.

\---------------------------

The next night, Spike once again allowed the trio to drag him to the Bronze. Though once again, he was sulking into his beer, Willow looking sympathetic and Xander matching his expression over a soda as they watched Buffy and Angel speak by the bar.

“Bloody git,” Spike muttered. “I killed Claw Boy, an’ he’s givin’  _her_  the credit. An’ she’s lettin’ the bastard! Won’t even bother next time, I’m tellin’ you now…”

Xander sighed. “Yeah, you will,” he said, voice heavy with understanding. “And so will I. It’s the curse we share, of being a pair of idiots helpless in the face of the wonder that is Buffy Summers.”

“You’re preachin’ to the choir, here, mate,” Spike replied, taking a swig of beer. “I get that better than you might think.”

Xander sighed. “Yeah, you…you’re probably a pro at this by now,” he admitted, before pausing and staring down at the table. “Uh…I wanted to say, again, though. I’m sorry. You know, for, uh…for what I said yesterday. I mean, I feel you so hard on the Buffy thing, and I know you’ve been at it for a while, so it wasn’t…really fair to throw that in your face, high on praying mantis lady chemicals or not. So… sorry, Spike.”

Spike blinked slowly, lowering the bottle and staring at Xander, not quite sure if he had actually heard right. But…but he had, hadn’t he? Xander Harris, in his experience the president and founder of the ‘We-Hate-Spike’ Club, had just apologized to him. And meant it. It took him a moment to answer, and he found his voice a bit rough with emotion he was unsure how to express. “Thanks, Harris. S’alright…jus’ glad you aren’t bug food.” He grinned faintly. “An’ hey, us lovestruck idiots gotta stick together. We need someone t’complain about Lord Forehead to, after all, yeah?”

The boys shared a laugh, and for the first time since his arrival, Spike really  _did_ feel at home here.


	4. Don't Kiss and Tell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this one was a hell of a chapter to write. I had one thing planned to happen in this chapter, but it ended up becoming something completely different, and better. I'm happier with this. Yay!
> 
> I also want to take the time to thank my beta/sounding board, Historia, who's been a massive help with characterization and plot, and without which I probably wouldn't have gotten the one Important Scene down half as well. In fact, most of our surprise guest's dialogue is credited to her, with only a few adjustments for fit. 
> 
> Some dialogue in this chapter from 'Never Kill A Boy on the First Date' by Rob Des Hotel and Dean Batali. (As an aside, I am so glad I've been using both a transcript and the shooting script, because holy damn did this episode change from script to screen.) Exerpts are from poems by Emily Dickinson, of course.

**Chapter 4: Don’t Kiss and Tell**

After the incident with the she-mantis, Spike found himself joining the group at the Bronze more often than not. He wasn’t sure what had changed, if anything had – maybe it was that fleeting sense of belonging he’d felt when Xander had apologized. Maybe it was just that he’d gotten sick of letting his near-constant state of tiredness get the better of him. He was  _William the Bloody_ , for Christ’s sake, he did still have some shreds of a reputation to maintain. (Well, alright, no he really didn’t at this point, but he liked to think he had  _some_  dignity still attached to his name.) He wasn’t about to roll over and lie down, as tempting as it was. He was too stubborn.

Odd as it was, though, while the sense of belonging he’d felt with the trio of teens had been fleeting, and had yet to settle permanently…it had already set in when it came to the hours he spent in the Sunnydale High library with Giles. If he’d been told that he’d feel most at home there…hell, even that last year of his unlife post-soul, he’d have laughed in that person’s face – if he was in a good mood. And yet here he was, enjoying the other Brit’s silent company and the stacks of books both belonging to the Watcher and the school.

Today, apparently, Giles and Buffy were trying to figure out the meaning of a ring a vampire had dropped during the previous night’s patrol (he hadn’t accompanied her, seeing as Giles had gone with her himself). Buffy sat perched on the table playing with it absently, while Giles moved through the stacks, flipping through books.

“That symbol there on the ring,” he muttered thoughtfully. “I believe it’s the rune for fidelity, but, uh…it doesn’t connect with any of the sects that I’ve studied.”

Buffy frowned, holding the small band up. “What about this?” She asked. “On the inside. It’s a sun and three stars. Haven’t we seen that somewhere?”

“No, I-I don’t think—” Giles began, but Spike leaned over to pluck the ring out of her hand, examining it.

“Probably have,” he said, frowning at the piece of jewelry. “That symbol, sun ‘n three stars, it’s the Order of Aurelius. I’d know it anywhere.”  _Unfortunately_ , he thought dryly.

Buffy grinned. “Ooh, and score one for the vampire!” She chirped, lifting her hand for a high-five. Spike blinked in surprise, and was about to respond to the gesture, when the library doors opened and a handsome young man came in…and Buffy was immediately distracted, sliding off the table to beam at the boy. “Oh! Owen! Hi!” She said brightly.

Giles looked a bit taken aback. “Ah…what do you want?” He asked, and Owen raised an eyebrow.

“A book?” He said slowly, and Buffy laughed, which just served to make the frown that had appeared on Spike’s face deepen.

“See, this is a school,” she said to Giles teasingly. “And we have students, and they check out books, and then they learn things.”

Giles rolled his eyes. “I was beginning to suspect that was a myth,” he replied with his usual British humor.

There was a quiet chuckle from Spike, before Owen spoke up, looking over to the librarian. “I lost my Emily Dickinson,” he explained. “It’s dumb, but I like her around. Kind of a security blanket.”

Spike’s gaze near shot over to the boy, biting his lip hard to keep the sarcastic remark he’d nearly blurted out silent. Of course, Buffy’s reaction was…predictable, but no less frustrating. She giggled, smiling awkwardly.

“I have something like that. Well, it’s an actual blanket. Uh, and I don’t really carry it around anym-more…” She trailed off, before awkwardly blurting out her next words. “So! Uh, Emily Dickens, huh? She’s great!”

Spike had to stifle a groan, and he just silently put his head on the table, not wanting to witness the rest of the conversation. But even though he wasn’t looking, he could still hear…and that was almost as painful.

“Dickinson,” Owen corrected, amused.

Buffy paused, embarrassed. “She’s good also,” she replied, managing a slight grin while Giles directed Owen to the poetry section.

As he walked over, the boy looked over at Buffy, who was following him. “I didn’t think I’d find you here,” he admitted, and Buffy frowned.

“W-Why not?” She asked nervously.

Owen looked sheepish. “I-I didn’t mean…I mean…I think you can read,” he tried, though the expression on both their faces was purely an indication of how thoroughly he’d stuck his foot in his mouth.

“Thanks,” Buffy replied dryly.

He shook his head, trying to salvage the situation. “But you don’t seem bookwormy,” he clarified. “The type of person to lock themselves in a dark room with a lotta musty old books.” He paused, glancing up from the book he’d taken off the shelf. “Oh, and I’ve offended you,” he said after a moment, laughing weakly.

“No!” Buffy said loudly, shaking her head. “Uh, no. I’m just surprised you gave any thought to what I’m like.”

Owen smiled at her. “You shouldn’t be.”

Buffy blushed brightly as she followed him back to the counter. “Oh, well, I  _love_  books,” she claimed, a little strained. “I mean, I really  _love_  books.”

Owen made to glance over at the table, where their research was sitting out, but Spike had already slid down the book they’d been consulting into his lap out of sight, though his head was still firmly on the table.  Shrugging, he turned back, handing his book to Giles and checking it out.

“Oh, Emily Dickinson,” Giles said faintly.

Buffy nodded solemnly. “We’re both fans.”

Giles’ mouth twitched, clearly disbelieving her. “Yes, well, uh…she’s quite a good poet. I mean, for a…”

“A girl?” Buffy asked, with a raised eyebrow.

Giles rolled his eyes as he checked Owen’s book out. “For an  _American_ ,” he clarified, earning a muffled snort from Spike.

Owen took the book and his library card back from Giles, turning to smile at Buffy. “I’ll, uh, see you in math…” He told her. “I mean, if I open my eyes at some point.” He chuckled softly, and departed, leaving Buffy staring after him.

“Cool…” She mumbled.

Giles coughed. “So, ah…the Order of Aurelius,” he began pointedly. “It is a very old and venerated sect. If they’re here, it’s for a good reason.”

Buffy didn’t seem to hear him at all. “That was Owen!” She said, still staring at the doorway.

“Yes, I remember,” Giles said dryly, sharing a look with Spike, who looked ready to start banging his head on the table.

Buffy whipped around. “Do you have any more copies of Emily Dickinson?” She asked desperately. “I so need one.”

Giles groaned, exasperated. “Buffy, while the mere fact of you wanting to check out a book would be grounds for a national holiday, I think we should focus on the problem at hand.”

“Right, I’m sorry,” Buffy blinked and apologized, though she didn’t look all that sorry. “You’re right, vampires.” There was a pause as she glanced down at her clothing. “Oh.” She muttered, before looking up at the two men. “Does this outfit make me look fat?” She asked plaintively, and this time Spike didn’t bother to stifle his groan.

She was distracted enough for Giles to give up on talking to her about the Order, and sent her off with a wave to head to lunch. Once she was gone, he glanced over at Spike, who’d sunk down in his seat and was glaring at the wall as if he was hoping he could set it on fire with his eyes. He let out another angry sigh, crossing his arms.

“Bloody hell,” he hissed under his breath. “Bloody, buggerin’…Emily Dickinson. Christ. Who does he think he is, paradin’ in here with his— his  _s_ _ensitive bleedin’ soul_ , an’— an’ his  _poetry_ , an’ his big doe eyes— what does she  _see_  in ‘im? How is that ‘er type? Since  _when_?” He let out a quiet growl, more at himself than anything. God, that description was familiar, and the fact that it was just pissed him off even more. Poetry.  _Really,_  Buffy? He wasn’t even paying attention to the rest of the room anymore, so absorbed in his grumbling as he was. “Emily bleedin’ Dickinson. For the love of… _I_  know Dickinson. What’s so damn special about it?” He sighed, the memory of words read so long ago coming back much too easily for his comfort, but slipping out of his lips almost automatically.

“Because I could not stop for Death—  
He kindly stopped for me—  
The Carriage held but just Ourselves—  
And Immortality.”

He trailed off, suddenly painfully aware of a pair of eyes boring into him, and he slowly turned to look at Giles, whose eyebrows were practically disappearing into his hairline. “You’ve read Dickinson?” The Watcher asked, bemused. “Pardon me for saying so, Spike, but from what I’ve heard and seen of you, you’re hardly the type to read poetry.”

“You’d be surprised, mate,” Spike said softly, ducking his head to keep the other man from seeing the frustration and embarrassment on his features. “Lots of things you don’t know about me. Even more that I’m not gonna tell you.” Like why exactly he knew poetry, for one. Whether or not he and Giles got along, he still was rather reluctant to tell the man anything about his past, solely for fear it would end up in one of the Watcher’s journals, and his reputation would really, officially, be ruined. (Even if it would probably impress the hell out of the other man.)

Giles shook his head, chuckling softly. “Alright, then,” he agreed, though he was silently planning on probing for more information when he could. “I’ll leave you your secrets, Spike.” For now.

The rest of the afternoon was spent researching the Order of Aurelius – well, to an extent. Being of the Order’s bloodline, Spike did know a thing or two about them; not as much as Angel might have, or Darla, given how little he cared about anything resembling tradition or rules, but enough to help out somewhat. After classes were over and carrying the knowledge of what was to come, Giles stepped out of the library to fetch the trio while Spike sat lost in thought.

He glanced up as Giles reentered, the two girls following him, all three with slightly confused looks on their faces.

“What are you talking about?” Willow asked, only for Giles to raise a brow.

“What are  _you_  talking about?” He asked in reply.

The two girls looked at each other, and looked at Giles, speaking in unison. “Boys!”

Giles groaned, shaking his head, and Spike felt the bad mood from earlier creep right back. “Yes, well, I’m talking about trouble,” Giles said, irritated. “A violent and disturbing prophecy is about to be fulfilled.”

“The Order of Aurelius,” Buffy said in realization, sounding a bit unhappy.

Giles nodded. “Spike was spot-on about the connection,” he said, walking over to the table. “We’ve looked at the writings of Aurelius himself, and he- he prophesied that the brethren of his order would come to the Master and bring him the Anointed.”

“Who’s that?” Willow asked, and Spike answered first.

“Right annoyin’ little berk,” he said, snorting. “I remember him.”

Giles glanced at the vampire, adjusting his glasses before clarifying. “He- he’s some kind of a warrior, I believe, but- but it says he will rise from the ashes of the Five on the evening of the thousandth day after the Advent of Septus.”

Buffy nodded sagely, clearly not understanding a word of that. “Well, we’ll be ready whenever it is,” she replied decisively.

“Which is tonight,” Giles added.

There was a beat while Buffy took the information in, nodding slowly. “Tonight, okay…” She trailed off, then, and her eyes widened, gasping in horror. “No, not okay! It can’t be tonight!” She demanded.

“My calculations are precise,” Giles replied, not sure why she was panicking.

Buffy shook her head fiercely. “No! They’re bad calculations! Bad!”

“Buffy has a really important date,” Willow explained, and the two men looked nearly mutinous.

Buffy nodded. “Owen!” She explained further, which just made Spike’s expression fall further.

“Alright,” Giles began, voice dripping with British condescension. “I’ll just jump in my time machine, go back to the twelfth century and ask the vampires to postpone their ancient prophecy for a few days while you take in dinner and a show!”

Spike didn’t bother hiding his snort, and Buffy rolled her eyes, hard. “Okay,” she snapped. “At this point you’re abusing sarcasm.”

“Buffy, this is no ordinary vampire,” Giles snapped right back. “Even Spike agrees. We have to stop him before he reaches the Master.”

Buffy shook her head in protest. “But…cute guy! Teenager! Post-pubescent fantasies!” She exclaimed, looking at Spike for assistance and finding none. “You agreed with  _me_  last time!” She pleaded.

“Sorry, luv,” Spike said, feeling just a little sorry for ruining her night…but not too sorry. “Rupert’s right. The Annoyin’ One’s not somethin’ you can just not deal with while you go on a  _date_ ,” he said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice and succeeding for the most part. “This time, I’m on his side.”

Giles nodded. “Thank you, Spike,” he said gratefully, before looking at Buffy. “You’ll just have to put your date on hold, there’s no way around it. Tonight, we go into battle!”

\-------------------------

Too annoyed to want to deal with Buffy after the day’s events, Spike let Giles accompany her to the graveyards solo, and simply went right home. He sat at the counter between his kitchen and the living room, furiously sipping at a mug of blood. While it was frustrating, endlessly so, it was also comfortingly familiar, in a sort of bitter, perverse way. When was the last time he’d actually been genuinely angry at Buffy? …No, actually, let’s not go there, because that way lies memories he’d put a lot of effort into not thinking about. So there he sat, simmering in his frustration. Had she really been so shallow once upon a time? He tried to think about when he first saw her. He couldn’t quite reconcile any of that with the girl he was seeing now…he must have arrived in Sunnydale the first time after she’d gotten over her issues with slaying. Well, the issues he hadn’t seen before now, at least – at least she’d accepted she was the Slayer by the time he’d crashed the party.

Another long sip of blood, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t so oblivious to pretend that part of the reason he was so angry was out of sheer childish jealousy – no matter how much time would pass, how well he knew her, and regardless of his soul…he would always, always be jealous of any other man or boy that held Buffy’s attention. That was the price of the way he loved. It had been the same with Dru, once upon a time. The thought made his hand tighten on the mug dangerously, and unbidden, the image of Buffy wearing Angel’s jacket floated through his head, followed closely by the image of Dru and Angelus in bed together.

That all but sealed the deal, and he shot to his feet. “Enough of this bullshit,” he snarled to himself. “I don’t have to stand here an’ watch ‘er go out with every bloody boy under the sun, or watch ‘er walk blindly into heartbreak, either.” he had the knowledge of what was coming, after all. He knew what would happen…and he could keep it from happening. She knew Angel was a vampire, he was pretty sure she knew there was a curse…all it would take was a few words, one simple warning…and Angelus would never resurface. Hell, she might not even risk hooking up with the other vampire, if she knew. The thought made a vicious grin float across his face unbidden, and for a moment he almost felt like himself again. He should have known it was too good a moment to last.

“I can’t let you do that, Spike,” a voice from behind him admonished, and he spun, eyes wide, to face Whistler.

“How’d you—?” He tried, but shook his head. “Forget that. Where th’ hell do you get off, tellin’ me what I can an’ can’t do?! Do you really think you can stop me? Ain’t it my job to be Champion, to protect th’ Slayer? Well, look at me, protectin’ ‘er! That’s what this is!”

Whistler raised an eyebrow, leaning against the wall nonchalantly. “Really?” He asked lightly. “Because to me, it looks like a man about to go selfishly interfere in the love life of the girl he loves, out of nothing more than sheer petty jealousy. What do you think?”

“Selfishly—?” Spike gaped at the man, eyes wide, before he let out a furious snarl. “How the bloody hell is this selfish, you arrogant wanker?!” He snapped. “I tell her ‘bout the curse, she doesn’t fuck Peaches, he doesn’t lose his bloody soul, an’ not only does Angelus stay buried, but how many people did I just prevent from dyin’?! Didn’t I just save that Calendar bint?! That other Slayer, the black chick? How much death am I preventin’, just by keepin’ my Slayer from getting’ her heart shattered when he hurts her, when she sends ‘im to hell, when he  _leaves_!” He took a step forward, eyes blazing. “An’ let’s not even get me started on that waste of breath, Riley bloody Finn! He went behind her back to get bit by cheap vampire whores! Tell me why I have to let ‘er see that! Give me one good reason why I can’t stop all of that pain! One good _goddamn_ reason I have to sit by and watch th’ woman I love hurt!”

There was silence for a moment, Spike taking heavy, unneeded breaths, before Whistler spoke. “It has to happen.”

Spike didn’t even blink before he was across the room, hands in Whistler’s collar as he slammed the demon against the wall. “Has to happen?!” He snarled, unconsciously shifting into game face in his rage. “ _Has to happen?!_  Are you tryin’ to tell me that I have to watch ‘er heart get broken by bastards who don’t deserve ‘er, watch her get torn to pieces all over again, because it has to _fucking_  happen?! As if what you bastards did to me was bad enough, now  _this?!_  Please, enlighten me as to why the bloody hell I have to let it happen! I’m  _dyin_ ' to know!” He emphasized this point with a shake of the smaller demon, letting him bounce against the wall.

The demon winced, but grabbed one of Spike’s wrists and held on, enough to hurt but nothing further – yet. Funny, for two vampires who hated each other so much, the two Champions were a hell of a lot alike. “Look, pal, if it was just up to me, I’d say go for it. Be the hero you were meant to be. But it’s not up to me, unfortunately – I’m just the messenger.” He grinned, shrugging as best he could. “There’s a balance in the world, Spike. You know that. And you know what happened last time the balance was thrown off. The First Evil was able to start slaughtering the Potentials. Don’t tell me you forgot that already.”

He gave the vampire’s wrist a warning squeeze. “Angel is a key figure in a lot of events in the future. He has to go to LA – he has to deal with Wolfram & Hart. Prophecies, you know.” He shook his head. “Jenny Calendar’s death, and incapability to restore Angel’s soul is what causes Willow Rosenburg to begin her practice of magic. Even if you save her life, even if you save all the lives I know you want to save, other lives must be lost for the balance to be maintained, and for Buffy Summers to mature properly.”

Spike flinched at the pressure on his wrist but didn’t let go, didn’t bother to lose the game face. “Are you tellin’ me I have to let them all die again?” He asked, his voice dangerously low. “Let the gypsy die t’get Red into magic. Let—” he cut himself off, realization dawning and making him snarl. “You want me to let Joyce an’ Buffy die again,” he realized. “That’s what you’re tellin’ me. You want me to let all that pain happen, let ‘er lose her mum an’ her life, so she can… so she can _mature_   _properly_?! She’s not a bloody bottle of  _wine_ , you son of a bitch!” He shook his head. “Why did you bring me here, then, if I can’t change anything?! Why did you— why can’t I protect her from all this?!”

The demon’s jaw seemed to work slightly, eyes narrowing, and with a satisfying snap, his hand tightened around Spike’s wrist with enough force to break it. “You were there for here when she needed you last time, Spike. Don’t make that have to change.” He smiled coldly at the vampire’s thrown expression. “If you coddle her, if you shield her from the world and all the pain she went through when you knew her…she’ll never be your Buffy. She’ll never be the woman you fell in love with. And you’ll have to leave her just like Rupert Giles did. For her own good. Otherwise she’ll never stand on her own two feet.”

He straightened his shirt, smoothing out the creases as Spike let go and stepped back, nursing his broken wrist. “It’s like the first Slayer said, remember? Her gift is death. You can’t change that.” Another cool smile. “Didn’t you even tell her once…what was it, ‘all Slayers have a death wish’? Besides, I never said you can’t change  _anything_. Just the major things, just the things that shape her. Haven’t you ever heard of the butterfly effect? Change too much, and you may not even be necessary here. The balance must always be kept – you have to remember that.”

His smile widened, though it kept its lack of warmth. “Besides, Spike. I thought you of all people would understand. After all, would the old Buffy, the one you knew, choose you over the world? You know the answer.”

Spike flinched, looking away, finally slipping out of game face. He was right. He hated to admit it, but the demon was right. “…I understand that,” he said finally. “I fix everythin’ for ‘er, she’s gonna stop tryin’. Stop fightin’. Let me do all the work. I start tellin’ her this an’ that, an’ she’ll start wantin’ me to tell her every little thing that happens, shield her from all the pain, big an’ little. It’s like the sayin’…give ‘er an inch, she’ll try for th’ whole bloody mile. An’…an’ she won’t be my Buffy. The Slayer I know. Th’ one that  _tries_ , that gets back up even after the whole damn world knocks her down. She’ll never be th’ woman I know she can be if I treat ‘er like glass.” He paused, staring at Whistler, another realization hitting him. “That’s what you’re bankin’ on, isn’t it?” He asked. “You’re bankin’ on me being selfish enough to let her be hurt, let Angel break ‘er heart an’ leave, let Finn break her even more, let ‘er mum die…let  _her_  die…jus’ so I can have th’ girl I love exactly as I knew ‘er. Is that it?”

Whistler grinned. “I’m banking on you doing what’s right, what keeps the balance. Though I’ll admit that your selfishness does give it a good chance of happening.” He crossed his arms. “Buffy, this Buffy, will never be the girl you knew. Similar, probably, but never the same. Considering who you are, though – what did you call yourself? Love’s bitch? – whatever you do, or don’t do, will be out of love for the Slayer.  _Your_  Slayer. So what’s it going to be, Spike?”

There was a long, dead silence in the room before Spike turned around, stalking back over to the counter and taking a long pull of the cooling blood in the mug that still sat there, draining it in a few gulps before answering, his voice low and defeated. “You bastards are chargin’ a high price for this second chance, you know,” he told Whistler.  “She’s gonna hate me for doin’ this.”

The demon snorted, clearly amused. “That shouldn’t be  _too_  hard for you to deal with, considering your history with her. I’m sure you’ll manage somehow.” And with an unseen tip of his hat, he was gone, just as Spike whipped around, his empty mug shattering against the wall where he had just been.

He stared at the wall for a moment, at the shards of porcelain and then down at his broken wrist, before sinking back onto the stool at the counter. “Fuck!” He snarled suddenly, bringing his good hand down hard against the counter in a fist, hard enough to crack it slightly, before he deflated, resting his head in his hand. “Bloody, buggerin’ fuck…”

\-------------------------------

Thankfully, when he arrived at the library the next day, Giles either didn’t notice Spike favoring one of his hands or didn’t ask. Both were just as likely, seeing as the Watcher was quite flustered – apparently their graveyard vigil the previous night had been for naught. Nothing had happened.

“Wish I could tell you more,” Spike replied with a shrug. “I didn’t show up here ‘til next year. I’ve got no bloody clue how the little arse turned up. Just know he was here when I got here.”

Giles shook his head. “No, no, it’s quite alright. You’ve been very helpful as it is, Spike. Don’t worry…we’ll figure this conundrum out, you can be certain of that.”

“Hope so,” Spike replied. He was trying very hard not to dwell on his visitor from the previous night, and on the conversation they’d had. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what he was going to do – despite never being one for much self-reflection, as he’d told Wood, he knew himself pretty well. Soul or not, he was and would always be Love’s bitch. And that meant he was going to be a selfish bastard…and he’d do it for her sake. Even if she hated him for it.

By the time the end of the day rolled around, the two men were utterly worn out, Giles nursing a headache and Spike not too far behind him. The vampire was just – to Giles’ bafflement – making both of them some tea, when Buffy barged in, glancing from Spike to Giles and back.

“Hey, how’s it going?” She asked, with the perky grin of someone clearly up to something.

Giles blinked. “Alright…” He replied slowly, Spike nodding, both of them waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“That’s great!” Buffy beamed. “I see we’re still working on that Anointed One problem, that’ll probably take you a few days, right? I mean, that’s one obscure prophecy…”

Giles nodded, watching Buffy with a frown. “Well, yes…” He said. “There are a few interpretations—”

Buffy cut him off, smile still incredibly wide. “So tonight’s looking slow, right?” She asked hopefully, but continued without bothering to wait for a reply. “Probably best to relax and regroup, no big disasters coming, that is  _so_  good, I will see you tomorrow, then! Bye!” She waved brightly, turning to bolt out the door again.

There was a long silence, Spike walking over to put Giles’ teacup in front of him, the librarian absently picking it up and taking a prolonged sip, before putting it down. “She is the strangest girl,” he said, after a moment’s pause.

“You can say that again,” Spike agreed. He leaned against the desk, contemplating his own cup and wondering why the hell he’d poured one for himself before shrugging and taking a sip, wincing as he reached over with his injured wrist to poke through the day’s newspaper. A headline caught his eye, and as he picked it up to read it more closely he nearly choked on his tea, eyes widening.

“Bloody hell!” He yelped, shoving the paper under Giles’ nose. “Rupert, mate, you were right with those figures of yours after all! This is it!” Giles took the paper, his own eyes widening behind his glasses as he read.

“Good lord!” Giles cried. “A bus crash, five dead…that’s it! ‘Out of the ashes of five shall rise the one’…this must be it!” He held the paper out to Spike again. “Do any of the victims match what you remember of the Anointed One?”

Spike took the paper, glancing over the list of deceased, before nodding shortly, putting the paper down and tapping a name. “The kid. Collin what’s-‘is-face. It’s the kid, Rupert. I remember the brat all too well.”

Giles looked shocked, taking his glasses off and rubbing his face. “A child…good lord. And- and you’re certain?”

Spike nodded, already reaching for his jacket. “Dead certain,” he replied. “Th’ Annoying One was a little kid. Not gonna forget somethin’ like that anytime soon.”

Giles nodded back, unable to keep the smile of pride off his face. “Good job, Spike. You’ve once again proven invaluable. Now, we must hurry— the bodies are already at the funeral home. We need to get Buffy.”

The two men left immediately, Spike biting back his commentary upon seeing the somewhat battered, yet comfortingly familiar Citroen that was Giles’ car, sliding into the passenger seat with a grin. It wasn’t too long before they reached Buffy’s house, and Giles headed up to the doorway to speak with Buffy while Spike waited by the car – after all, he couldn’t get in without an invite. And besides that, he wasn’t sure he was ready. Just  _staring_  at 1630 Revello was making his stomach twist. The familiar lines, the porch, the trees…his eyes were drawn to one particular tree, under the window that he knew without needing to think for a moment was Buffy’s. How many nights had he spent under that tree? How many days had he spent in the basement of that house? No, he didn’t think he was ready to go in.

Not that he wasn’t able to hear the conversation that was going on. Or that he missed the boy from the other day – Owen, he thought – coming up the walk, giving him an odd look as he passed.

A few long minutes went by, before Owen left…with Buffy. Who didn’t even bother looking over at him as she leaned against the other boy, arms linked. He let out a long sigh, shaking his head slowly and only glancing up when Giles came back to the car. “Couldn’t get ‘er to come?” He asked, although they both knew the answer to that.

“Clearly,” Giles said bitterly. “She insisted that if it really was anything – if, she kept saying, despite my insistence that you were accurate – you would be there, and could handle it this once just fine, especially if you knew who to look for.” He shook his head. “Good lord, Spike, sometimes I wonder about her…”

Spike sighed, gesturing for Giles to get in the car as he slid back into the passenger seat. “She’ll do alright, Rupert,” he reassured the man half-heartedly. “Give ‘er time. She’ll come into ‘er own. She’s just a kid right now…she’ll grow up.” No thanks to him, he thought bitterly.

The two men arrived at the funeral home in silence, getting out of the car. Spike drew a stake from his waistband, while Giles grabbed a bag of equipment from the backseat. The two headed up towards the building, but when they were almost there Spike grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Wait,” he said quietly, and started forward himself – smiling thinly when a vampire materialized from the shadows in front of them and a moment later, another behind.

“Evenin’, mates,” Spike said casually, spinning the stake in his hand. “Hate to interrupt th’ party, but my friend an’ I have business inside. Mind steppin’ aside?”

One of the vampires charged, and Spike feinted to the side, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around to bring a fist slamming into his face with a crunch, following it up with a knee to the gut and a stake to the heart. Turning to grin at the other through the dust, he raised an eyebrow. “Guess not,” he said easily. “Rupert, go on ahead. I’ll just be a mo’.”

The other vampire was dispatched easily, but much to Spike’s chagrin, more seemed to pick that moment to show up. He lost his stake on the third, and the fourth was taken out with a vicious snap of his neck, and he turned to glare at five, six, and seven. “Christ, you’re like bloody roaches,” he grumbled. “Where are you  _comin_ ' from?”

A squeal made him spin around, and Willow and Xander were backing away from vampire number eight, Xander waving a cross valiantly. Spike swore, tearing across the parking lot and dropping into game face for a burst of extra speed, tackling the vampire to the ground and pinning him there, looking up at the two teens sharply, who stared back at him in shock – they’d known he was a vampire, but until now, had never seen him look like it. “Harris!” He snapped sharply. “Stake!”

Xander blinked, shaking himself off and fumbling around, juggling the cross and managing to get a stake out of his pocket, tossing it to Spike, who easily caught it and dusted the vampire under him before getting up and looking at them. “We— we came to help?” Willow managed nervously.

“That’s great, Red, but you two are a bit outnumbered, ‘specially if all you have is a stake an’ a cross,” he told her gently. “Look, go get Buffy. I can hold down th’ fort, an’ Rupert’s inside. I got the blokes out here, but he’s gonna need a hand once they get in there – we’re gonna need the Slayer.” There was a pause. “I don’t care if you’ve gotta drag ‘er away from that Owen berk by the  _hair_ , get her here!” He watched Xander and Willow wince, and realized his voice had risen, and he was still in game face. He shook it off, and his voice softened slightly. “Got it, Red? Harris?”

Willow smiled, nodding nervously. “Got it,” she promised, and the two bolted, leaving Spike to handle the rest of the vampires outside.

He let out another curse when he saw a few more coming, and tore inside, heading down the hall to the morgue. “Rupert!” He hissed, eyes widening when he saw the mess the room was in; the window smashed, bars torn open, and gurneys overturned. “Oh, bloody hell,  _Rupert!_ ”

There was a noise, and one of the storage drawers slid open, and Spike let out an exhale when Giles rolled off it, adjusting his glasses and grinning nervously. “Fine, I’m- I’m fine,” Giles told him. “ I…I hid. We need to find the Anointed One before they come back.”

“Right,” Spike agreed. “Harris an’ Red turned up to help. I had ‘em go get Buffy. She should be here in a bit. Let’s see if we can’t get this done before she shows up, yeah?”

“Too late,” Buffy told them, and they turned to see her entering the morgue, looking annoyed. “So these guys  _are_  here for the prophecy thing?” She asked.

Spike nodded. “Yeah. Dunno if they’ve got the brat yet or not, but we better take a look, an’ take out any vamps lingerin’ about, while we’re at it.”

Buffy nodded. “Okay,” she agreed. “I just need to get Owen and the others out of harm’s way, first.”

“Owen?” Giles asked incredulously, matching Spike’s expression. “You brought a date?”

Buffy let out an annoyed huff. “I didn’t bring him, he came.”

Giles groaned. “Buffy, when I said you could slay vampires and have a social life, I didn’t mean at the same time.”

“I know!” Buffy replied, frustrated. “I’ll get rid of him.”

Spike took a step forward. “Lemme come with, Buffy. Keep an eye on—”

“No!” She snapped, before calming. “No, Spike, he sees you, he’s gonna have more questions than he already does right now. I’ll take care of it,” she said, flashing them a quick smile before running back out the door.

The two men shared a look, and sighed in unison. “Bloody hell…”

A few moments later, Buffy returned, and the three of them started methodically opening the drawers containing bodies. One by one they went through them, and by the time they finished, Spike sighed, leaning against the wall. “Nothing,” he grumbled. “Not a single drawer containin’ the brat.”

“He must be gone already…” Giles said, shaking his head.

Buffy nodded reluctantly. “I guess…I mean, this is where they keep all the dead bodies, right?”

There was a moment of silence, and her question was, unfortunately, answered – by the sound of a window smashing in the distance.

“Oh, no!” Buffy moaned, bolting off out of the room, followed closely by Spike.

They tore down the hall, nearly crashing into Xander, Willow, and Owen coming in the other direction. “He’s in there!” Xander said frantically, pointing behind him.

“Right!” Spike said, already heading down the hall.

Buffy motioned at them, following him. “Go, get out!” She added, turning back to the hall and disappearing down it after Spike.

They slowed their pace, Buffy absently passing Spike an extra stake, and the two moved slowly down the hall in unison, eyes slowly glancing back and forth through the gloom.

As they moved, a man’s voice, clearly insane, began drifting through the hall, raised in song. “Shall we gather at the river?” He sang, almost cheerful. “The beautiful, the beautiful river?”

The two of them shared a look, not needing to speak, and bolted off in opposite directions, Buffy moving to circle around one way and Spike going the other.

He followed the singing and noises, coming back around to the morgue as the vampire – a huge, burly man – throwing Buffy hard into a cabinet, the Slayer slumping to the ground. “Buffy!” He yelled, running towards the room and diving into the vampire, knocking him off-balance. “A betrayer, a snake in the grass,” he snarled as they tussled, grabbing Spike by the throat and tossing him into a wall, turning something on next to him.

As he pulled himself to his feet, the vampire grabbed the dazed Buffy, lifting her up over his head…and the stupid kid, Owen, ran into the room, swinging a tray into the vampire’s back, making him drop Buffy. The vampire grabbed the boy, nearly biting him before the kid smashed an urn over his head, making him let go as he scrambled away for a moment – but not fast enough, as the vampire grabbed him by the arm, smashing him into a body drawer, sending him slumping to the ground.

“Dead!” He crowed, grinning widely. “He was found wanting!”

Buffy’s eyes flashed, and she held up a hand at Spike, charging the vampire with an angry cry. “You killed my date!” She yelled in rage, going after the vampire with a fury Spike hadn’t seen from this Buffy yet, but was familiar enough to make him smile. _“You killed my date!”_

Letting Buffy let loose, he shook his head and moved to the boy’s side, where Willow and Xander already were, helping him sit up. He glanced back over at her just as she slammed the vampire into the crematory — which had been turned on earlier, somehow. The smell of ash hit his nose, and he grinned, watching her run up to them…only for the grin to fade as he realized she only had eyes for Owen.

“Owen!” She cried, crouching beside him. “Are you okay?”

He blinked dazedly. “What…what happened to that guy?”

“Oh…” Buffy mumbled, before grinning sheepishly. “We scared him away.”

Owen smiled slightly. “Oh, good. ‘Cause, y’know, I would’ve…”

“I know,” Buffy said fondly, helping him up. “I’m sure this isn’t exactly what you had in mind for our first date.”

He chuckled, rubbing his head. “Yeah, I was hoping maybe we’d finish at Ben & Jerry’s.”

Buffy brightened, still oblivious to anyone else but the boy in front of her. “We still could…”

“No, I…” Owen shook his head. “I-I think I’ll just walk home,” he admitted, starting to walk away, but then pausing. “Uh…which way’s home?”

Buffy stepped forward. “I’ll get you there,” she offered, but Owen shook his head.

“No, I’ll— I’ll go it alone,” he declined, but Willow and Xander, who’d been watching the exchange – and the rather bitter-looking Spike – spoke up.

“We’ll make sure he gets home safely,” Xander told Buffy reassuringly, glancing over at Spike with a sympathetic grin, and the three departed.

Spike, Buffy, and Giles – who had disappeared at some point, but was now back – stood silently a moment, before Spike started to speak. “Buffy, I—”

“Don’t!” Buffy snapped, cutting him off, and she stalked off, face stormy.

And then there were two, and the men sighed once again. “C’mon, Rupert,” Spike said quietly, nodding at the exit. “I know you’ve got some scotch back at your flat. Mind sharin’?”

“No…” Giles muttered, adjusting his glasses. “No, actually, I don’t mind at all.”

\------------------------------------

He didn’t see Buffy at all the next day, though Giles had told him he’d spoken to her during one of her breaks – and that she’d broken it off with Owen, who seemed to have ended up being only interested in the danger involved in being with her. Spike couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit guilty at the burst of gleeful triumph he’d felt when he’d been told that part. God, was he pathetic, or what? And what was more, the kid hadn’t been there. The Master had already gotten his hands on the Anointed One. Even knowing who he was hadn’t helped.  _Great._

So, his mood wasn’t the best at the moment. But he’d turned up at the Bronze anyway, watching the trio – well, duo, since Buffy had gone to get drinks – at a table with the inescapable feeling of nostalgia (and not the fun kind, this time). Though his eyes widened when Willow saw him, beamed at him brightly, and motioned him over. The sense of belonging shot through him again as he sat down, and Xander clapped him on the back.

“Hey there, Spike!” He said with a grin. “Next time, just come on over, will you? You’re not Lurky Guy, like some people we know. You’re cooler, for one. And more reliable. Aaaand there’s Buffy, so I’m gonna shut up now,” he trailed off with a nervous laugh as Buffy came back, putting the three sodas on the table and glancing over at Spike.

“Hey,” she said quietly, and he could tell she wasn’t in the best mood either.

“Hey,” he replied. Xander looked at the two of them and rolled his eyes, grabbing Willow’s hand.

“So, uh, we’re gonna go…do something. Over there— dance! We’re gonna go dance. Right, Will?” Xander said cheerily, and Willow blinked, then nodded vigorously.

“Yeah! Yay, dancing!” She chirped, and the two of them bailed, leaving Spike and Buffy to talk.

They stared at each other for a moment, before Spike sighed. “Sorry ‘bout the boy,” he offered, managing some sincerity. “Heard what happened from Rupert. He’s a berk.”

“I don’t know what that word means, but thanks,” Buffy replied with a slight smile, also managing to be sincere. “It’s alright. I should’ve known…I mean, Slayer. That kinda sorta means forever dateless, doesn’t it?” She paused, her eyes widening. “Oh— oh! I mean, uh— oh! You— right! Oh, wow, and there goes my foot in my mouth…where the hell did that come from anyway? Who puts their foot in their mouth?” She laughed sheepishly, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, that was dumb. But you get what I meant, right?”

Spike laughed softly, shaking his head. “Yeah, I get it. Right terrible situation, I know,” he said sympathetically. “It’ll work out, Buffy,” he reassured her, cursing inwardly at Whistler. He could tell her. He could promise her she’d have someone. He could even give her names. But…he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t, because of that bloody  _balance_  of his. “I promise, it’ll all work out somehow.”

She sighed, smiling slightly. “Thanks,” she told him. “I mean…I should probably take your word for it, Mr. Back to the Future, but…I dunno. This gig seems pretty bleak sometimes.” She shrugged. “At least I  _sorta_  got a date out of it last night, right?”

They laughed, and Buffy paused, blinking. “Oh. I guess I should probably return that Emily whatshername book to Giles, then…since I kinda only got it to impress Owen.” She looked a bit embarrassed. “And  _god_ , does that make me sound shallow or what?” She asked.

“Nah, pet,” Spike said with a laugh. “Seen people do worse for less. I’d give the book a look-through anyway, though. Bird’s not a bad poet.”

Buffy blinked, eyebrows going up. “You’ve read  _poetry_?” She asked. “You seem more like the comic book kinda guy, like Xander. No offense, but…”

Spike just grinned at her, clearing his throat and picking one – a rather relevant one, at that – from his memory.

“’Heaven’— is what I cannot reach!  
The Apple on the Tree—  
Provided it do hopeless—hang–  
That—‘Heaven’ is—to me!”

He finished, looking embarrassed at the open-mouthed stare Buffy was giving him. After a moment, she shook her head, grinning widely. “Wow, color me surprised. And kinda impressed,” she told him. “You should do that more often, your accent makes it a lot better than how my English teacher makes stuff sound.” She patted him on the hand, hopping off the stool. “I gotta go find Team Unsubtle out there, okay? I’ll hang onto that book, maybe actually read it. Thanks again, Spike. See you tomorrow!”

_And see,_  Spike thought to himself, knowing full well he had a stupid smile on his face as he watched her bounce off.  _It’s things like that that make everything else worth it._


	5. Animal Instincts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter...good lord. I'm going to put a warning up here right now that I was personally really uncomfortable writing it, or at least part of it, so: !WARNING! -- this chapter contains, in case you forgot, hyena-possessed Xander assaulting Buffy, as well as some minor flashbacks to 'Seeing Red' on Spike's part. I was actually stunned at how many Xander/Spike parallels I was able to draw from this episode, and I definitely milked it. It's interesting. In fact, any anger I had at how that part of the plot was handled was balanced out by the amazing interactions between the two that it led to. (And honestly, after meeting Nicholas Brendon, I can't bring myself to do anything but try to portray Xander as fairly as possible.)
> 
> Some dialogue is taken from the episode 'The Pack' by Matt Kiene and Joe Reinkmeyer.

**Chapter 5: Animal Instincts**

While on the one hand, it was nice to be able to hang around the library all day with some semblance of peace and quiet, it was also incredibly boring without the trio of teen’s occasional intrusion. Apparently there had been some sort of field trip that day, which explained their absence, but Spike was pretty sure high school kids were a little old for that kind of thing.

“I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, Rupert, ‘cause I haven’t been in school in over a century, but I thought only little ones had to go on bloody  _field trips_ ,” he was in the middle of complaining to Giles about that exact thing, actually. “An’ where’d you say they went, the zoo? What the hell’s so interestin’ about starin’ at a bunch of animals all day?” Well, the thought did occur that were he in his previous soulless state, he probably would have thought releasing the animals on the unsuspecting humans a grand old time. Even now the idea would be pretty funny. But he didn’t say that out loud.

Giles shrugged. “You’re asking the wrong man, I’m afraid, Spike,” he replied, amused. “I’m still trying to puzzle out the infinite mystery that is the American school system. So far I’ve been quite unimpressed, and yet it seems to continue to surprise me.”

The vampire snorted, shaking his head. “I know fuck all ‘bout American high schools. Only started  _livin’_  here once Buffy an’ the others were in college. Hell, I’m surprised I haven’t been busted for hangin’ out here yet.” He grinned; it’s not like he would care if he did, it was just the fact that he hadn’t that spoke volumes about the school’s attentiveness.

“Yes, well, you must recall that this is the library, and it would take a genuine miracle for anyone to remember that it exists on a daily basis,” Giles said dryly, stirring his tea. “Never have I seen a group of students so dead-set on refusing to learn. It’s a tragedy.”

Spike laughed. “Well, ‘splains why you can keep all your Watcher things here without some unsuspectin’ kid stickin’ their noses into ‘Demon Summonin’ Rites of Ancient Greece’ or what have you,” he said teasingly, grinning. “Though it might just be Sunnydale – th’ place seems to make an  _art_  out of ignorin’ the abnormal.”

“A valid point,” Giles conceded. “It’s almost eerie, the sort of pathological sense of denial the town has cultivated over the years. I suppose that’s what happens when you’re on a Hellmouth…” He took a sip of his tea, watching the vampire over his cup. “You know, it’s after school hours, Spike. You can leave if you’re so inclined. I imagine Buffy and the others will be at the Bronze by now if you’d like to meet up with them.”

The vampire looked startled, and shrugged, trying to cover his surprise with more teasing. “Well, if you’re so eager to get rid of me, Rupert, I s’pose I’ll head off. Let you get on with…well, whatever a stuffy librarian like you gets up to with th’ shades drawn.” He winked conspiratorially, leaving Giles to sputter with a slightly proud sense that he was beginning to sound more like himself again as he headed off towards the club.

He found the girls fairly easily after arriving, falling into step with them as they found a table. They both shot grins at him as they sat, Buffy taking a sip of her coke. “Hey, Spike,” she said with a grin. “How was today? Boring?”

“Endlessly,” he grinned back. “Place was dead quiet without you three to liven it up. How was th’ zoo? Full of smelly animals?”

Buffy nodded. “Oh yeah. But hey, as Xander so helpfully pointed out, it was less ‘boring field trip’, and more ‘day we’re not in class’. So…bonus!”

“Yeah…” Willow muttered, looking around distractedly. “I thought Xander would be here by now, speaking of.”

Buffy snorted. “No, but that would make him on time. We couldn’t have that!”

“Did he seem upset at all on the bus back from the zoo?” She asked Buffy, concern written all over her face.

“About what?” Buffy asked.

Willow shrugged. “I dunno. He was quiet.”

“I didn’t notice anything,” Buffy told her, before smirking in amusement with a glance over at Spike. “But then again I’m not as hyperaware of him as, oh, say, for example…you.”

Willow let out a nervous laugh. “Hyperaware?”

Buffy leveled her gaze at the redhead. “Well, I’m not constantly monitoring his health, his moods, his blood pressure…”

“130 over 80!” Willow chirped with a grin, before looking incredibly similar to a deer in the headlights, making Spike laugh. He did vaguely recall something about a de-lusting spell back when he’d had his little drunken bender in Sunnydale after Dru dumped him, when he’d grabbed Red and Harris from the school. Vaguely. He’d been absolutely pissed that night, after all. Barely remembered it, but what little he did recall was enough.

Buffy laughed, too. “You got it bad, girl!” She teased, elbowing her friend lightly.

“He makes my head go tingly,” Willow admitted shyly. “You know what I mean?”

Buffy grinned. “I dimly recall,” she joked.

“But it hasn’t happened to you lately?” Willow asked, trying to hide the gaze that slid over to Spike and failing, making the vampire suddenly incredibly awkward. The conversation was fast approaching territory he’d rather it not.

Buffy shook her head, seemingly sensing the same thing.”Not of late,” she denied, hoping that would be the end of it.

Willow raised an eyebrow, shooting another not-as-subtle-as-she-thought glance at Spike. “Not even for a, uh…dangerous, mysterious, and possibly a little fangy older man? One of two?” She asked innocently, reaching over to tug slightly on the sleeve of the leather jacket Spike hadn’t even noticed she was still wearing until that point, which made him huff slightly into his beer.

Buffy pouted, looking annoyed and gently batting Willow’s hand away. “Goes with the shoes!” She protested.

“Come on,” Willow said teasingly. “There are buttons being pushed somewhere. You know it.” And a third glance at Spike. He was really gonna have to talk to Red. Not that he didn’t appreciate her attempts at dropping (admittedly ham-handed) hints, or her clear support of his affection towards Buffy (which was a hell of a lot more than he ever got from her friends the first time), but…if he wasn’t gonna force it, he’d have to tell Red to stop trying, too. Which was a bit of a shame, because it was cute.

Buffy sighed, trying not to look at the vampire sitting next to her, and when she spoke, it was as purposely vague as she could manage – she really didn’t want to hurt his feelings. She may not like him the way she was kinda sorta liking Angel (weird, since the one she  _was_  into was around a lot less than the one that she  _wasn’t_ ), but she considered Spike a friend. She didn’t like the idea of upsetting him. “I suppose some girls might find them good looking…”, she conceded, and paused a moment with a grin. “If they have  _eyes_ , I mean. Not gonna lie, Spike, you and Angel are certifiable honeys.” The girls had to laugh at the pleased look on his face at the comment, before she continued. “It’s just…I dunno, Will. It’s hard to say, I mean, I haven’t known them very long yet, a-and why are we talking about this in front of Spike, anyway?”

Willow hadn’t seemed to hear her, her eyes moving somewhere over Buffy’s shoulder. “There he is!” She gasped.

Buffy’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? Angel?”

“Xander!” Willow beamed widely, waving at the approaching boy, and Spike stiffened as he arrived at their table. He smelled different. And as he glanced up and down at him, he saw Xander was holding himself differently, too. More confident. It was in his eyes, as well, and Spike’s own gaze immediately dropped to Xander’s neck, letting out a quiet exhale when he saw it undamaged. He shouldn’t have worried, he told himself in annoyance. They’d seen him today. This morning. Siring didn’t work that fast. It might just be his imagination. But the smell…

“Girls! Vampire!” He said smoothly – the second part sotto voce, of course — leaning casually on the table.

“Boy!” Buffy answered back with a laugh.

Xander grinned. “Sorry I’m late,” he apologized. “I…just forgot that we were gonna be here. Ooh, hungry!” He reached over and snatched a piece of Buffy’s croissant, popping it into his mouth.

“Xander, you still want me to help you with geometry tomorrow?” Willow asked, a frown beginning to form as he took a swig of Buffy’s coke. “We can work after class…”

He flashed her a quick thumbs-up, without even looking at her. “Yeah,” he said offhandedly, wrinkling his nose and looking at Buffy. “What is this crap?”

“Well, it  _was_  my buttery croissant,” Buffy replied slowly, her eyebrows raising.

Xander shrugged, ignoring her. “Man, I need some food!” He grumbled. “Birds live on this!” He paused, blinking at the three pairs of incredulous eyes upon him. “What?”

“Harris, mate, you feelin’ alright?” Spike asked, surprised at the genuine concern he was feeling at the moment. This…just wasn’t  _right_ , for some reason, though he couldn’t pin down why.

Willow bit her lip. “Is something wrong? Did I do something?” She asked nervously.

“What could you possibly do?” Xander asked, confused. “That’s crazy talk. I’m just…restless.”

The word struck a chord with Spike, but he didn’t say anything, just watching the boy closely as the trio spoke. Willow smiled, seemingly appeased. “Well, we could go to the ice cream place?” She suggested, but Xander shook his head.

“I like it here,” he said, tapping the table. He rolled his shoulders, scanning the crowd and slipping around to stand between Willow and Buffy, and – to Spike’s increasing alarm – leaned over to sniff Buffy’s hair.

“Okay,” Buffy said, leaning away from him. “Now what?”

“You took a bath,” Xander noted, as if he were stating the sky was blue.

Buffy nodded slowly, looking genuinely weirded out. “Yeah, I-I often do. I’m actually known for it.”

“That’s okay,” Xander said, causing the other three to exchange looks.

“Harris, you are seriously startin’ to freak me out here,” Spike told him.

The boy didn’t answer, head coming up sharply to stare at the entrance to the club. The others turned to look, watching a group of teens come in. “Oh, great,” Buffy grumbled. “It’s the winged monkeys.”

“Who?” Spike asked.

“Uh— Kyle, Rhonda, Tor, and Heidi,” Willow explained. “Bullies.”

As if on cue, the four of them near prowled over to the table – Spike could smell something odd about them, too, and leaned in to watch them more closely – one of the boys, the leader, staring Xander, of all people, down. The other boy broke first, and his group walked over to the next table over, looming over the overweight boy that was sitting there.

“Y’know,” the leader said. “I don’t understand why you’re sitting at our table,” he said casually.

One of the girls nodded. “Yeah,” she sneered. “Shouldn’t you be hovering over the football stadium with ‘Goodyear’ written on you?”

The group laughed, making the boy squirm – and, to the other three’s horror, so did Xander. He blinked, laughter trailing off as he caught their looks. “What?” He asked, as if they didn’t get the joke. “Kid’s fat.”

The next day, much to both Buffy and Spike’s shared glee, Giles allowed the vampire to stand in for him in assisting Buffy train – admitting that Spike was probably much better equipped to take the Slayer’s punishment. They exchanged blows for a good hour or two, wide grins on their faces as they sparred, Giles watching in mild amazement before he coughed loudly, clapping his hands. “Right!” He called, and they stopped, the pair panting (even though Spike didn’t need to), sweat shining on Buffy’s face. “That’s enough for one day, I should think.”

“Yeah?” Buffy asked, between gasps of air. “I think…I could go another few rounds. You?”

Spike just grinned. “Always willin’ to dance if you are, Buffy,” he said, leaning against the table. “But I think it’s about time for you to head to class. Promise I’m not goin’ anywhere, if you want a second go later.”

“I might just take you up on that!” She chirped, wiping her face on a towel and grabbing her things to head off.

Once she was gone, Spike sank into a chair with a pleased sigh, leaning back in the seat. Giles watched him a moment, amused. “I must thank you again for assisting me in Buffy’s training, Spike,” he said. “As much as it is my duty to teach her, there are certain things that perhaps, ah…”

“Y’mean I’m less easy to bruise when it comes to ‘er Slayer strength,” Spike said dryly, to Giles’ embarrassment, and the Watcher nodded. “S’alright, Rupert. You’re doin’ more than enough for her. I’m jus’ here to help her, an’ helpin’ you does that, yeah? I’m more than willin’ to be her punchin’ bag.” A bitter snort escaped him, and he shook his head. “An’ under a hell of a lot better circumstances, too. I woulda given  _anythin_ ' to have 'er as a willin' sparring partner, last time. Trust me when I tell you that this ain't a bother in the least.”

Giles smiled almost fondly at the vampire. “Well, it is clearly beneficial to both of you to be able to practice with someone of equal ability,” he said lightly. “So I have no objections. And from what I can see, neither does she.”

They exchanged a look, and Giles went back into his office, while Spike picked up a book at random from the table and started paging through it. Sometime during the day, a storm picked up, and Spike changed seats to one under the skylight, leaning the chair back to watch the rain and lightning through the glass.

Eventually the storm stopped and Spike moved back out of the sun, but whatever boredom was beginning to sink in disappeared when Buffy entered the room.

“Spike, Giles, we have a problem, and his name is Xander,” she declared, and Spike’s head shot up.

“I was worried about that,” he admitted. “Somethin’ was off about Harris last night. I thought I was imaginin’ it, but…what’s he done now?”

Buffy shook her head. “It’s…he’s making fun of people. Like, bullying them. Which is so not a Xander thing, I mean, he’s kind of the  _harass-ee_ , not the harasser.” She explained. “And he’s not dressing like Xander today, either, he’s actually wearing something reasonably cool. And in gym…we were playing dodgeball, right, and he was being a total jerk – he creamed Willow in the back! And then he pulled her aside, and the way he was talking was like he was gonna tell her he liked her, but then he insulted her – right in front of Kyle and those bullies from last night, and they all laughed and walked off. Like, I tried to confront him and he literally laughed in my face, Spike. He is not acting right. Like, at all.” She sounded genuinely worried.

Spike stared at her for a very long moment, and if his face could pale any further than it already was, it would have. Buffy stared back, his expression making her even more concerned. “Spike? You in there?”

“Yeah, I…” He began, shaking his head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he got turned,” he admitted. “But that ain’t possible. He’s been out all day, an’ there wasn’t enough time between you seein’ him yesterday afternoon an’ him showin’ up at the Bronze. Still, though…”

Giles shook his head. “Have you two considered that this might just be, ah…hormones?” He suggested. “He is a teenage boy, after all, and testosterone is the great equalizer. It turns all men into morons, it’s a great sorrow, really. But I assure you, he will get over it.”

Buffy looked exasperated. “I cannot believe that you, of all people, are trying to Scully me,” she complained. “There is something supernatural at work here. Isn’t there, Spike?”

“I’d have to agree with the lady, Rupert,” Spike said. “Somethin’ is up, an’ I speak from my own professional vampiric opinion here.” He reached over to grab a book. “We jus’ gotta figure out  _what_.”

Giles sighed. “Look under what, if I may?” He asked. “The evidence that you’ve presented me with is sketchy at best, unless Spike has anything to add.”

“…He smelled funny,” the vampire said, sighing. “Couldn’t describe it besides that, but I noticed when he showed up last night. He smelled funny.”

Buffy nodded slowly. “And he scared the pig,” she told him, and added when she got a pair of odd looks. “The new mascot. Herbert. He’s a cute little piggy. Xander scared him.”

Giles sighed. “Look, Buffy, Spike, I know you want to believe something is affecting Xander, but boys can be cruel. They tease, they- they prey on the weak. It’s…it’s natural teen behavior pattern.”

Buffy’s eyes widened suddenly. “Wait, what did you just say?”

“….They tease?” Giles asked, but she shook her head, something dawning in her eyes.

“No, no, you said— they prey on the weak,” she corrected. “I’ve heard that somewhere bef— oh my god!” She gasped. “Xander has been acting totally wiggy ever since we went to the zoo. Him and Kyle and all those guys, they went into the hyena cage.” She sounded certain, her eyes distant in horror. “Oh god, that laugh…”

Spike’s eyes widened. “You’re sayin’ Harris got hijacked by…by a hyena?” He asked. “An’ those prats from the—” He stopped, swearing loudly. “Bloody hell! They smelled funny, too, same as Harris!” He shook his head. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me…”

Giles frowned. “Well, I-I’ve certainly never heard of, uh…”

Whatever he had been about to say was interrupted by a very pale Willow coming into the library. “Buffy!” She said, sounding concerned. “Herbert! They— they found him.”

“The pig?” Buffy asked. “Found him…how?”

Willow sighed. “Dead,” she said awkwardly. “And also eaten. Principal Flutie’s freaking out.”

Spike and Buffy exchanged a look, before both looking over in unison at Giles, eyebrows raised. “Testosterone, huh?” Buffy asked.

Giles sighed, shaking his head and moving to head to his office. “I’ll…see what I can dig up.”

The four of them dove into the books, although Spike was distracted. Vampire, hyena…the ‘how’ didn’t matter. The facts of it all were still the same – Xander was acting…well, he was  _acting_  like a vampire. Spike knew the feeling of just being turned all-too-well, remembered it clearly. The freedom, the power…yeah. He may not have liked Harris all that much the first time around – alright, so he had actively hated the wanker – but  _this_  Harris…this Harris was someone who could be a friend. And he didn’t want the boy…he couldn’t stop the image of Harris in game face from floating around the back of his head, and he was surprised at how ill it made him feel. It wasn’t right. They had to fix this.

Finally, Buffy jumped to her feet, holding up a book. “Wow!” She said, walking over to the table to show the others. “Apparently Noah rejected the hyenas from the Ark because he thought they were an evil impure mix of dogs and cats.”

“Hyenas aren’t well liked,” Willow noted, still sounding noticeably down.

Buffy shrugged. “They do seem to be the schmoes of the animal kingdom,” she replied.

“Why couldn’t Xander be possessed by a puppy?” Willow said plaintively. “Or- or some ducks?”

“Assumin’ possession is the word we’re lookin’ for, here,” Spike put in.

Giles nodded, coming over from where he’d been looking through books in the cage. “Oh, I’ll say it is,” he told them. “The Masai of the Serengeti have spoken of animal possession for- for generations. I…” He sighed, looking chagrined. “I should have remembered that.”

“So how does it work?” Buffy asked.

Giles shook his head. “Well, apparently there’s a- a sect of animal worshipers known as Primals. They believe that humanity, consciousness, uh – the soul – is a perversion, a dilution of spirit. Uh, to them, the animal state is holy. They are able, through trans-possession, to- to draw the spirit of certain animals into themselves.”

“And then they started acting like hyenas,” Buffy finished.

Giles blinked. “Well, only the most predatory of animals are of interest to the Primals, so, uh— yes, that would fit, yes.”

“So,” Spike asked, standing up. “What happens to the bloke once the spirit’s in ‘im?”

Giles looked grim. “If it goes unchecked…” He trailed off, simply holding a book out to them, open to a grisly picture of people with limbs, heads missing…chunks of flesh bitten off…eaten. Buffy paled.

“I have to find Xander,  _now_ ,” she said, standing up like a shot and bolting out of the room.

There was silence for a long moment, Spike staring blankly down at the picture, distantly registering Willow letting out a strangled yelp of horror. The image of Xander in game face made a reappearance in the back of his head, and he turned suddenly, shoving the book away from him and causing Giles to gasp in surprise. “I’m goin’ after her,” he said tightly. “I gotta talk to Harris.”

He took off after Buffy, following her scent down the hallways and stopping when he turned a corner, eyes widening when he caught the tainted scent of Harris in with her through an open door down the hall. “Oh, god,” he muttered, hurrying towards it, conversation beginning to be audible as he drew closer…and if his heart beat, it would have stopped.

“Get off of me,” he heard Buffy snarl.

Xander’s laugh chilled him. “Is that what you really want?” He asked. “We both know what you really want. You want  _danger_ , don’tcha? You like your men dangerous.”

“You’re in trouble, Xander,” Buffy tried, voice sharp. “You are infected with some hyena thing, it’s like a demonic possession!”

Xander seemed to ignore her, continuing speak as if he didn’t hear her. “Dangerous and mean, right? Like Angel, your Mystery Guy. Or Mr. Badass, Spike. Well, guess who just got mean.”

Spike froze. He knew, instinctively  _knew_ , that he had to get in there, now. He could smell Buffy’s fear, smell the hyena on Xander, smell the boy’s arousal— and that was what was making him unable to move. He squeezed his eyes shut, but that honestly didn’t help, because that just made him remember.

_'Ask me again why I could never love you.'_

The sound of the voices resuming yanked him from the past, and he could almost taste bile. “Do you know how long…” Xander began, voice hitching. “I’ve waited…until you’d stop pretending that we aren’t attracted…” There was a loud thump, like someone hitting the floor, and a grunt that sounded like Xander, but Spike didn’t hear it.

_'I know you feel like I do. You don't have to hide it anymore.'_

“Until Willow…stops kidding herself,” Xander continued. “That I could settle with anyone but you?”

Buffy’s voice finally filtered through the door again, sounding strained. “Look, Xander, I don’t wanna hurt you…”

There was another thump and a grunt, this time from Buffy, and that got Spike’s legs working again, even if the rest of him was still elsewhere. “Now do you wanna hurt me?” He heard Xander purr. “Come on, Slayer. I like it when you’re scared. The more I scare you…” There was a soft inhale – a sniff, Spike knew without needing to see it. “The better you smell.”

That’s when Spike entered the room. He entered the room, and he didn’t see the mangled cage that once held a pig. He didn’t see the animal bones scattered all over the floor. All he saw was Xander, reeking of hyena and arousal, pinning a struggling, angry and frightened Buffy to the vending machine. All he saw was Xander, as the possessed boy moved to roughly kiss Buffy’s neck as she tried to squirm away.

And then he saw red.

He didn’t actually realize what he was doing until someone’s fist connected with his face, and he staggered back into the wall, panting heavily as he blinked, vision returning to see a slightly disheveled Buffy staring at him in shocked concern. “Holy  _cow,_  Spike,” she said nervously, and he realized absently he was in game face and pushed it back down. “What— what was that? You, like…you and Xander were like…” She tried to find words, and shook her head. “It was like a freaking dog fight, you two were snarling and everything.”

He slid down to the floor, watching his hands shake before his gaze shot back up to Buffy. “Oh, god. Harris. Oh, god, Buffy, did I hurt ‘im—” She cut him off, shaking her head and pointing to the side, where Xander lay, unconscious, the only visible injury a nice, purpling bruise around his left temple and eye.

“He’s okay, don’t worry. Just out cold, I checked. I guess the hyena spirit made him extra sturdy. You’ve…you’ve got a couple bruises, too, you know,” she told him, gesturing to her face. He reached up to check, and winced as he felt a nice one beginning to form on his cheek.

“Oh,” he mumbled, the reality of what happened settling in, and once again his gaze shot up to Buffy. “A-Are you alright, Buffy?” He asked faintly, and she crouched with a small smile. 

“Yeah. I’m alright. Kinda grossed out, and a little bit annoyed, but mostly kinda grateful you got here when you did. I mean, if you hadn’t, I was gonna punch him in the nose, but…hey. You get to be hero of the hour.” She reached out to examine the bruise on his face, but stopped when he flinched away from her touch. Confused concern colored her expression, but she shook her head, deciding not to press. “You gonna be okay?” She asked. “You’re kinda out of it.”

Spike blinked, watching her from his spot on the floor as she dragged Xander half to his feet so she could carry him, and then shakily levered himself up. “Yeah, I’ll— I’ll be fine. Jus’ need a few minutes, luv. I…” He trailed off. He couldn’t tell her. God, no. He would never tell her, not about that. How could he? What he had done – what he had  _nearly_  done – the thought of this Buffy’s expression if she knew nearly killed him. There was a small part of him that was furious, blazingly so, that no one had brought this incident up in his timeline. Of course not. Xander was their friend, beyond reproach. Why would they? But the majority of him really didn’t think it mattered anymore, and so he just silently followed Buffy back to the library.

When the two of them got to the library, Willow was on the computer, and looked up sharply when they entered, gasping.

“Hurry up and help me,” Buffy told Spike. “We gotta get him locked up somehow before he comes to.”

Spike nodded, lifting Xander off of her shoulders – without touching Buffy – and hauled him into the cage as Willow looked from them to Buffy, eyes wide. “Oh my god, Xander! Spike! What happened?” She asked.

“Spike happened,” Buffy explained. “Well, to Xander. Xander is what happened to Spike. It was kinda like watching National Geographic.”

Willow boggled. “B-But…what?! Why?” She asked.

Buffy took a deep breath, leaning against the table. “Well, Xander tried his hand at felony sexual assault,” she explained casually, only for both girls to whip around to look at Spike, who had slammed the cage shut a lot harder than he needed to and was leaning against it, looking a little ill. Cautiously, Buffy continued. “Anyway, nothing actually happened, mostly because Spike turned up just in time and went sorta postal on Xander. Don’t worry Will, he’s fine – I guess the hyena mojo juiced him up a bit, seeing as he was strong enough to pin me easy and give spike a nasty bruise, and ‘cause all he’s got is that shiner.”

Willow looked horrified, playing with the hem of her shirt. “Oh, Buffy…” She said, a little horrified, a note of pleading in her voice. “The hyena in him didn’t…”

“Don’t, Red.” The two girls looked over at Spike again, who was watching them with an unreadable expression on his face. “Don’t start that.  _'Oh, it wasn't his fault.' 'He couldn't control himself.' 'It wasn't really him, it was the hyena.'_  That’s jus’ makin’ excuses for what he did. He attacked Buffy, an’ it was  _wrong._  He’s possessed, yeah, but it’s still Harris in there. I know he has a thing for Buffy. Th’ hyena jus’ freed him to act on it. It’s not somethin’ he would have ever done normally, no, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay to write ‘im off as completely blameless.” He let out a long, needless breath. “I know he’s your friend, but you still gotta hold ‘im accountable when he does stupid shit.”

Willow nodded, still looking upset. “But what if he doesn’t…”

“We’ll figure it out when it comes to that, Red,” he told her quietly. “For now, let’s focus on stoppin’ this. Where’s Rupert?”

Willow’s expression hardened in resolution, and she nodded again. “He got called to some teacher’s meeting,” she explained, just as the Watcher entered the room behind their backs.

“Right now, I’m a little more worried about what the rest of the pack’s up to,” Buffy said, only to jump when Giles announced his presence by speaking, his voice grim and solemn.

“The rest of the pack were spotted outside Herbert the mascot’s cage,” he told them. “They were sent to the principal’s office.”

Willow smiled weakly. “Good! That’ll show ‘em.” There was a pause, where no one said anything. “…Did it show ‘em?” She asked nervously.

Giles just let out a long breath, and somehow, they all knew what had happened. Well…they knew that something had happened.

“They didn’t hurt them, did they?” Buffy asked.

Giles looked away, removing his glasses to run a hand down his face. “They, uh…ate him,” he said softly.

Willow sat down in a chair with a thump, three faces blank with shock. “They ate Principal Flutie?” Buffy asked weakly.

“Ate him up?” Willow echoed faintly.

“Bloody hell…” Spike whispered, glancing back at the unconscious Xander.

Giles nodded. “The…official theory is that wild dogs got into his office somehow,” he explained. “There was no one at the scene.”

“But Xander didn’t!” Willow yelped suddenly, looking at Buffy. “He- he was with you— you and Spike.”

Giles blinked, looking over at the bruised Spike leaning against the cage, and the just-as-bruised Xander slumped in it. “Oh!” He said, surprised. “Uh, well, that’s a small mercy.”

“Giles, how do we stop this?” Buffy asked. “How do you, uh..trans-possess someone?”

The Watcher shook his head. “I-I’m afraid I still don’t have all the pieces,” he admitted. “Um, the accounts of the Primals and their methods are a bit thin on the ground. There is some talk of a-a predatory act, but the exact ritual is-is um…” He shook his head again, picking up a book. “The Malleus Maleficarum deals in particulars of demonic possession, which…may apply…” He trailed off, flipping through a few pages. “Yes, one- one should be able to transfer the spirits to another human.”

“Great!” Buffy said sarcastically. “Any volunteers?”

Giles blinked. “Oh,” he mumbled. “Good point.”

“What we need to do is put the hyena back in the hyena,” Buffy told them, starting to pace. She thought for a moment, and then brightened. “Betcha that zookeeper could tell us. Maybe he didn’t quarantine those hyenas because they were sick.”

Giles nodded. “We should talk to him.”

“Okay, Buffy said, getting up, but she stopped suddenly. “Oh, wait— somebody’s gotta watch Xander.”

Willow stood. “I will,” she said bravely.

“Will, are you sure?” Buffy asked gently. “If he wakes up…”

She just silently nodded. “I’ll be alright. Go,” she told them. “Spike, can I have the keys?”

“Oh-oh, no,” Giles said, glancing over at Spike. He’d had an eye on the vampire since he’d entered the library, and while he had no idea what had happened between him, Xander, and Buffy…the look on the man’s face and the way he was holding himself made at least one thing clear: he was in no shape, mentally, to be going anywhere. “Spike is going to stay here with you.”

Spike blinked. “What?” He asked. “Rupert, mate, you’re gonna need my—”

“We do,” Giles said gently. “We need you here, with Willow. Just in case. Do this for me, Spike?”

The vampire sighed, nodding slowly and moving away from the cage to sit down next to Willow, absently putting a hand on her arm. “Alright,” he conceded. “Go. Get Harris back to normal.”

Giles nodded, and he and Buffy disappeared down the hall.

\-----------------------------------

It was maybe an hour later when Xander woke up, moaning and shaking his head. He glanced around the library, eyes finally landing on Willow, seemingly alone and watching a video on hyenas. “Willow,” he called.

She jumped, pausing the video and looking over at him. “How are you feeling?” She asked.

“Like I got the crap kicked out of me,” he admitted. “What am I doin’ here?”

Willow got up, walking over to him. “You’re…resting?” She tried, but he frowned, eyeing the book-return cage they’d locked him in.

“You guys got me locked up now,” he said petulantly, standing up.

Willow nodded earnestly. “’Cause you’re sick. Buffy said…”

“Oh, yeah,” Xander interrupted bitterly. “Buffy and her all-purpose solution: punch ‘em out and knock ‘em down, and when she can’t do it, let her pet vampire handle it for her. I’d love to see what she’d do to someone who was _really_  sick.”

Willow frowned. “That’s not fair,” she protested. “Buffy saved both of our lives. So did Spike.”

“Before she came here, our lives didn’t need that much saving, did they?” Xander pointed out. “Weren’t things a lot simpler when it was just you and me?”

Willow moved a little closer, looking upset. “Maybe…”

“When we were alone together…” Xander looked at her pleadingly. “Willow, I know there’s something wrong with me. I think it’s gettin’ worse. But I can’t just stand around waitin’ for Buffy or Spike to decide it’s time to punch me out again.” He let out a breath. “Look, I want you to help me. I want you.”

“I am helping you,” Willow told him.

Xander sighed again. “You’re doing what you’re told.”

“Buffy’s trying to help you, too,” Willow tried again. “You know that. Or Xander does.”

Xander snorted. “Yeah…Buffy’s so selfless. Always thinking of us. Well, if I’m so dangerous, how come she left you alone with me?”

There was a slight pause, before Willow shrugged. “I told her to,” she lied easily.

“Why?” Xander asked.

Willow moved a step closer. “’Cause I know you better than she does,” she admitted. “And I wanted to be here to see if…you were still you.”

“You know I am,” Xander protested. “Look at me.”

Willow took another step closer, her face almost touching the cage. “Xander…” She began, but his hand shot out through the return slot, trying to grab for her. She leaped back just in time, her face hardening in resolve. “Now I know.” She said firmly, and turned, walking away from the cage and into Giles’ office.

Xander laughed to himself, shaking his head, before starting to fiddle with the bolt on the door. He was so distracted, he didn’t even notice someone else walking over from where they had been hiding in the shadows of the stacks until an arm slammed against the cage, its owner leaning against the door.

“’Lo, Harris,” Spike said quietly, holding up the key ring safely out of the possessed boy’s reach. “You might have a better time with these.”

Xander jumped, staring at the vampire before a growl slipped through his lips, eyes narrowing. “Spike,” he said quietly, all the bristle of the animal in him behind his voice. “You here to go another round, man? I’m game.” He grinned viciously. “Winner gets Buffy.”

“As much as I’d love to punch your face in, mate, given our  _wonderful_ relationship my last time ‘round, no,” Spike told him, though he was barely able to keep himself in check, the demon in him growling back like a challenged alpha. “Besides the fact that you ain’t that Harris, an’ I actually kinda like you, I’m not in the mood to break you.” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “I know I will. An’ Buffy’s gonna reverse this soon, an’ I think her an’ Red want you in one piece.”

Xander snorted. “What?” He asked. “What’s that all about, Spike? Come on, let’s go. Are you really that whipped? Jeez.” He grinned again, laughing. “I knew you were Buffy’s pet vampire, but this is kinda ridiculous. Would you ask how high if she told you to jump? Bet you would. Let’s go a couple rounds, man. I can handle it. I know you want to. Hell, I want to. See, we’re both willing, so let’s go. I bet I can give you a matching set of bruises.”

This time Spike did react, lunging forward with a snarl and making Xander step back. “Oh, I know you  _think_ you can handle it,” he said, a bitter grin twisting his face. “I know exactly the high you’re ridin’, Harris. Trust me. Feels good, don’t it? You feel strong. Powerful. Like you can do anything. You’ve got no limits. No one can stop you. You can take what you want, do what you want, an’ anyone who gets in your way is gonna go down. Am I right?” He paused, and the boy’s expression told him everything. “Yeah, thought so. I know what I’m talkin’ about,  _boy_ ,” he snapped the last word with another snarl, and Xander instinctively growled back. “An’ guess what? Unlike you, mine never wore off. You can’t say a few words an’ toss some funny colored powder an’ put me to rights. My high is  _permanent_.” He let that sink in, before he leaned close to the cage, voice low and harsh. “Yours ain’t. Now shut your mouth, sit the hell down, and behave ‘til Buffy comes back. Got it?”

With that, he banged the cage again and stalked off, disappearing back into the shadows. The room fell silent, and eventually Willow left the office – having went in just so Spike could talk to Xander – and sat back at the table, opening a book and starting to read.

“Willow…” Xander called.

She didn’t look up. “I’m not listening,” she told him, still in her resolve face.

“Willow….Wiiillooow…”

Willow turned, annoyed. “Xander, shut up!” She snapped, only to stop dead, her eyes widening when she realized he wasn’t talking.

“Wiiillooow…” She looked up, and screamed – there were the rest of the pack. Two of them kicked out windows, and they and the others all entered. Spike darted out from his hiding spot, grabbing Willow and pushing her towards the library doors.

“Go!” He said sharply. “Hide! I can handle them.” Willow nodded and tore off, and Spike turned, watching the rest of the pack rip the cage door down, letting Xander out. They all whined, letting out animal noises and sniffing each other, before Xander growled, turning towards Spike. Then the rest of them did.

The five possessed teens spread out, all facing the vampire and growling low in their throats. Spike just grinned, shifting into game face and cracking his neck. “Now, I’ve never been one to have minions,” he said casually. “I mean, sure, they can be useful, an’ all, but they usually end up a pain in th’ neck. But I know how to punish ‘em when they act up – you learn early, and I learned from th’ best.” His grin widened. “An’ it seems to me I’ve got a bunch of puppies jus’ beggin’ to be taught who’s boss.” The pack growled again, and he snarled back. “C’mon. Let’s go,  _whelps_.”

The five charged, and he bolted, leading them down the hall and away from the direction he Willow had gone. He could hear the howls and snarls behind him, and he knew he had succeeded – they were animals, plain and simple. And he’d goaded them…and now it was a pure, straight-up battle for dominance. Animal against animal…or vampire, as the case may be. Close enough, he thought sardonically. But this would keep their attention until Buffy could get the spell reversed. He skidded to a stop, swinging around and clotheslining the first one behind him – the leader of the bullies, who let out a yelp and crashed to the floor, scrambling to his feet as the five surrounded him again. He lunged, feinting, snarling at one and then another as they circled him slowly. Xander paused, lashing out and catching him across the cheek with his nails, leaving claw marks. Spike growled, taking a step back, and he started laughing, joined by the others in a chorus of pure hyena giggles.

“Spike!” He paused, looking up, and saw Buffy running up to him. “We need to get them to the zoo!” She called, stopping far enough away to keep the pack from changing targets. “Willow and Giles went ahead.”

He nodded, and grinned – and to her credit, Buffy didn’t even flinch, despite the blood on his face and his demonic visage out to play. “Right then, Buffy,” he said lightly, turning to stare down each member of the pack in turn with golden eyes blazing. “Think these pups are up for a little game of fetch?”

“Won’t know ‘til we try,” she responded, grinning back. And with that, the chase was on. She caught up to them easily, and a few punches and kicks later the pack was incensed enough to chase the pair of them out of the school and across town, Buffy leading the way while Spike engaged the pack, keeping them on the trail – lashing out at one every so often, snarling or punching to keep their focus on him, herd them to the zoo like a dog herding…well, other dogs (the metaphor didn’t seem to work as well here). He tried to avoid hitting Xander as best he could, but the boy seemed to have it in for him in particular, and by the time they got to the zoo, Spike was nursing a freshly broken nose to go along with his other injuries.

They sped through the zoo, Spike wincing as their snarls and growls agitated the other animals, setting off a cacophony that hurt his ears, though it seemed to hurt the pack’s, too. He followed Buffy to the hyena enclosure, hearing her call to the others. He came in behind her, just in time to hear Willow’s warning as a man – the zookeeper, no doubt – held a knife to her throat. Before either he or Buffy could react, something slammed into him from behind, knocking him to the floor and pinning him there – Xander. He could almost catch the same thing happen to Buffy, one of the bullies pinning her before the rest were on the two of them, their combined strength keeping the pair from getting up. He could hear Xander growl, the boy’s breath coming in animalistic pants as one hand pressed against the back of his neck hard.

The zookeeper began to chant, and though he couldn’t see what was going on, he suddenly felt Xander’s weight disappear as he screamed Willow’s name, and he leaped to his feet alongside Buffy. The keeper had absorbed the hyenas’ essences, it seemed, as he punched Xander into a wall, the rest of the pack scrambling backwards and out of the enclosure. Buffy darted forward, punching the zookeeper in the face, and they struggled, Buffy eventually knocking him against the side of the pit where the animals themselves were being kept. Spike could hear their baying and growling, could smell their hunger, and he stepped forward just as the possessed keeper made to get up, grabbing the man by the throat and snarling into his face.

“Welcome to the jungle,” he growled, grinning savagely, before throwing him backwards and over the edge.

There was a long silence, Spike dropping out of game face as Buffy moved over to stand next to him, wincing at the noises coming from below while Xander untied Willow. After a moment, there was a noise, and Giles limped out of the back room holding his head. “Uh…” He murmured, looking around. “Did I miss anything?”

\---------------------------

The next day, everything seemed to have gone back to normal. Spike’s injuries had mostly healed overnight, leaving just some yellowish stains across his cheek and a set of thin, nearly invisible lines across the other that would probably be gone by that night.

Xander seemed to be fine as well, the bruise Spike had given him healing nicely – he had seemed to accept the injury with grace, claiming to have no memory of what had happened while he was under the spell, and making sure they all knew he didn’t blame anyone for anything they might have done to him.

Both Giles and Spike knew better, though, and while Giles pulled him aside that day to speak with him, Spike waited until after school to catch up with him, asking him to meet him at his apartment – the first of the group to be invited, yet Spike felt this conversation needed to be had, and held somewhere Xander could feel comfortable that no one would overhear.

He let Xander in that evening, the boy glancing around at the sparsely furnished room nervously and perching on the couch. Spike tossed him a soda, leaning against the counter sipping at a mug of blood.

“Uh. Is that, uh…?” Xander popped open his can and indicated the mug.

Spike nodded. “Yeah, s’blood.” A pause. “I’d ask if you wanna try it, but it’s pig’s blood, an’ I think you already know what that tastes like after yesterday.”

“I-I, uh—” Xander tried, before drooping. “Well, great, you know I know, too? Kill me now.” He took a sip of his soda, turning the can around in his hands, before looking up again. “I’m sorry I broke your nose,” he said finally. “I was kind of a jerk, wasn’t I?”

Spike snorted. “Kind of? Harris, you hurt Red’s feelin’s, helped eat a whole bloody pig, went a good few rounds with me, an’ oh yeah, you attacked Buffy,” he leveled a stern look at the boy over his cup. “They may be too nice to say anythin’ about it, or hold it against you, but I for one am not gonna let you forget it.”

“It— it wasn’t me!” Xander protested, and then trailed off, face falling in resignation. “Okay, so maybe it kind of was. I remember what you said when I was in the cage…” He trailed off, looking back up at Spike with a sparkle of fear in his eyes. “Is that…was I really acting like a-a vampire? Is that really what it feels like? What…what Jesse felt?”

Spike nodded. “Jesse a friend?” He asked.

“Y-Yeah,” Xander said quietly. “My best bro. It was me and Will and Jesse since we were kids. I knew Will longer, but Jesse, he was my best guy friend. He…that first night, when we found out about Buffy…he got taken by the vamps. Buffy went to get him and I went with her, and we found him, but…” Xander swallowed. “He’d already been, y’know. Turned. He tried to kill us.” He looked down, blinking back tears. “He was at the Bronze, that night. The, uh, the Harvest. Right before you got here. I…I was gonna stake him. I was gonna. I just…I couldn’t. He was my best friend. But then someone…someone knocked him into my stake, and he was dust. And Jesse was gone.”

He looked up, solemn as Spike had ever seen him. “But…Jesse was gone before that, wasn’t he? He was gone when he got turned. Is that how it works?”

“You tell me, mate,” Spike said softly. “You knew ‘im before. You saw ‘im after. You felt what it was like yesterday. You tell me…was your friend gone?”

Xander was quiet a long moment. “He…he said he was a new man. The old Jesse was a loser, but he was a new man. It…Giles, he said that it wasn’t him anymore, it was just the thing that killed him, but I…I couldn’t see it. To me, it was Jesse.  _He_  was Jesse.” He sighed. “Was he?” He fiddled with the coke can’s tab. “I mean…you’re a vampire. You’ve been there. I thought Giles was right, but…I mean, wouldn’t you  _know_? Since you’ve got a soul and all. You can tell the difference.”

Spike watched the boy, marveling at the difference a few years could make. By the time he’d started to help the Scoobies, Xander’s hatred of vampires had solidified into something likely never to be affected, and he’d never change his mind. Xander had hated him, pure and simple. Never bothered to ask questions or try to understand. But here, now…this was all still so new to him. And he was willing to ask the things he never would have asked had things been the way they’d been in Spike’s timeline. He stood up, grabbing the stool to pull it over to Xander, sitting on it so they could be face to face. When he spoke, his voice was surprisingly gentle, but there was still a sort of firmness in it.

“Let me tell you my story,” he said. “Not gonna tell you  _all_  of it – an’ if you tell anyone else, I’m gonna have to kill you – but I think you need t’hear it.” Xander nodded, promise in his eyes. “Right then.” He took a deep breath, and when he looked back at Xander, he could almost see the century he’d lived in his eyes. “When I was human, I was a bit like you an’ your friend, Jesse. I was a ponce. A loser, like he said. Didn’t have any friends, really, an’ pretty much all my peers either ignored me or treated me like shit. Can’t count th’ times I was insulted or laughed at, an’ that isn’t even takin’ into account anything they said behind my back. Victorians were real good at gossip, y’know.” He sighed. “I was miserable, really. Th’ night I was turned, I was harassed, insulted, publicly humiliated, an’ then the girl I was in love with shot me down hard. An’ then I met Dru – my sire, Drusilla. She turned me, right there in the alley I was cryin’ my eyes out in. An’ when I woke up…”

He smiled faintly at the memory. “As I said to Buffy once, getting’ killed made me feel alive for the very first time. I felt…strong. Stronger than I’d ever been in life. I felt powerful. Free. Felt like I didn’t have t’live by any rules anymore – I could make my own. It was…it was liberatin’. I was still me, I still thought an’ spoke an’ felt like me. It was just…it was like whatever had been holdin’ me back was gone. No conscience, no sense of right an’ wrong…jus’ me. Uncensored, uninhibited  _me._  Could take what I wanted, do what I wanted, be whoever the bloody hell I wanted to be. But I never felt like I wasn’t… _me_ , anymore. I was jus’ a better version of me.” He gestured at himself. “I’m not Angel – I don’t split myself in between ‘me without a soul’ an’ ‘me with a soul’. It’s  _all_  me. Always was, always is. Everythin’ I did I chose to do, an’ just ‘cause I feel bad about it now, jus’ ‘cause I know it’s wrong…doesn’t make me any less guilty. Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be held accountable. And I’m alright with that. Some things I did, I’m not even sorry for. Not many, but some. Either way, it was always me.”

He reached out and poked Xander in the chest with a finger. “Jus’ like it was always  _you_ , yesterday, when you were possessed. That hyena didn’t take you over, it jus’…set you free. Like bein’ turned. It was always you, doin’ whatever you wanted, everything you’d never do normally, but felt like you had th’ freedom to do now.”

Xander paled slightly, biting his lip. “S-So…you’re saying I have it in me to be that kinda jerk? To— to be the guy that hurt Will’s feelings, that— that tried to do  _that_  to Buffy?” He asked. “What…what do I do, then? I don’t wanna be—” He stopped, realizing what he’d been about to say. “I don’t wanna be that guy.”

“Choose,” Spike said simply. “S’what I did. I chose to stop killin’. I chose to stop feedin’ on humans. Choice wasn’t mine at first – it’s a long story – but I didn’t have to go along with that. I  _chose_  to help you lot. The reason I was choosin’ to do all that was selfish, mind, but doesn’t make my choice any less valid. I chose to help. I chose to fight with you. I chose to go against my very nature an’ fight alongside the Slayer – an’ then I chose to go get my soul, after…after somethin’ I did that I’ll never forgive myself for. But I chose t’do that, too. It was wrong, an’ terrible, but I chose to do it. Jus’ like I chose to get my soul back.” He smiled. “An’ you can choose t’be whatever you want to be, Harris. Jus’…know that everythin’ you do’s a matter o’ choice. S’always up to you.”

Xander nodded slowly, letting everything sink in. “I…yeah,” he said after a long silence. “That…that means a lot, hearing that. I dunno how much you know about me, but…it means a lot.”

“I bunked at your place for a while, while you were livin’ in your folks’ basement,” Spike said, knowing that would tell Xander all he needed to know. “An’ point still stands. You can choose what kinda man you wanna be, Harris. I mean, I was a soulless demon, an’ I did. An’ look where I am now.” He grinned, the serious air that had settled between them dissipating. “The short version of what I’m tryin’ to say is, I know how it feels t’be freed like that, Harris, an’ while I ain’t gonna let you pass off responsibility for everything Hyena Harris got up to, I don’t want you thinkin’ that means you’re all bad deep down. Everyone’s got darkness in ‘em, trust me – jus’ up to you whether or not you give in to it. Bein’ a vamp makes it a hell of a lot easier to, but you an’ I really ain’t all that different.”

There was another long silence, before Xander grinned. “That’s not the only reason, is it?” He asked. “What got you to play sharing time? Is it that thing you said about liking me this time around?”

“I— bloody hell,” Spike grumbled, embarrassed. “Yeah. I knew how you felt about us vamps back my first time ‘round, an’…I figured I’d plead my case before you got set in your ways. Th’ old you never gave me a chance, never wanted to. I…thought I had a chance this time.” To be friends. That’s really all he had wanted from them the first time. To be given a chance to prove himself, to be treated as an equal, if not a friend. To be accepted. To be allowed in. He had never gotten that, not really, not even at the end. And here he had the chance that he’d never had before, and hell if he wasn’t going to take it.

Xander laughed, standing. “ _Think_ , nothin’. You sure do. I’m Earth-2 Xander here, Spike, I’m a totally different guy than your Xander. I mean, we’ve got similarly dashing good looks, I’m sure, and a stellar sense of humor, but…that’s it, I guess. And hey, I’m never gonna  _be_  that Xander, ‘cause of you. And correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that a good thing?” He stuck his hand out. “So, forget about the jerky version of me. You’ve got this one now, and this Xander says ‘hey, this talk really meant a lot to me, and I think you’re a pretty cool guy, and we sure as heck are gonna be friends’. How’s that for choosing the kinda guy I wanna be? ‘Cause I choose to be the guy that  _doesn’t_  make you wanna punch me in the face.”

“Harris…” Spike said quietly, before taking Xander’s hand. The two men shook on it, and there was a moment’s pause before they awkwardly let go, shifting in manly embarrassment. “R-Right, then. You better get your arse home. Gettin’ late an’ all. See you tomorrow, mate.”

Xander nodded, heading to the door. Before he left, he paused, glancing over his shoulder. “For the record, I’m  _firmly_  on Team Xander, but if I get taken out of the running, I’m cheering for Team Spike over Team Angel,” he told the vampire, before waving and heading down the hall to the stairs.

It took him a moment to realize what Xander meant, and he sat there, stunned. He shook it off after a few seconds, getting up to lock the door and put the stool back and his mug in the sink, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it…well, the whole conversation in general.

He had a point –  _these_  were the versions he had now. He hadn’t chosen them, but…they had chosen him. Accepted him. And, he thought absently, he was going to make damn sure they didn’t regret it.


	6. (Bad) Boy Meets Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter...ended up being miles away from the original plan for it. And again, for the better. I got a lot of feedback for chapter 4, and thanks to that, plot points have been changed and, well...you'll see. (And my muse deciding to stick his foot in his mouth/lose his temper helped with that too.) Makes me look forward to Season 2 all the more. Anyway, I ended up not really using much of 'Angel' seeing as the big reveal was kinda, well, revealed already. But... 
> 
> On a different note, DAMN was 'I Robot, You Jane' tedious...I ended up skipping huge chunks of it. Blargh.
> 
> Chapter contains dialogue from 'Angel' by David Greenwalt and 'I Robot...You Jane' by Ashley Gable and Thomas A. Swyden. Also, views expressed by Spike re; Angel are not necessarily the author's views, even if they are true-ish.

The one thing that was continuing to exasperate Spike was the fact that he didn’t know what was going on. Next year would be different, given that he had  _been_  there, but nothing that was happening was familiar to him, so he couldn’t actually predict what would happen, or warn anyone about anything – he just  _didn’t_ _know._  And not knowing just frustrated him. ****

And that frustration wasn’t helped by Giles calling him at midnight one night, asking him to come to the library to assist him with research – apparently Buffy had been attacked by some unusually strong vampires, and he needed Spike’s input. It was all he could do not to throw the phone at the wall. Of all the nights he’d picked to skip the Bronze…if he’d been there, he probably could have helped. Well, at least he could find out who the bastards were.

He’d ended up falling asleep in a chair around five in the morning, Giles having found the information needed – or was fairly certain he had. The next thing he heard, waking up with a stifled yawn, was Xander’s incredulous voice.

“He spent the night?” The boy demanded, eyes wide. “In your room? In your bed?”

Buffy shook her head. “Not  _in_  my bed,  _by_  my bed,” she corrected.

“That is so romantic!” Willow said, grinning. “Did you—oh! Oh, hi, Spike! When did you wake up?” She turned crimson, swinging her head around to stare at Buffy.

Spike shrugged. “Jus’ now,” he said, voice forcibly light. “Who crashed at your place, then, Buffy?”

Buffy looked sheepish. “Angel,” she admitted. “Nothing happened, though! He was a perfect gentleman.” She watched him, almost daring him to protest, but Xander did it for him.

“Buffy, c’mon, wake up and smell the seduction,” he said, rolling his eyes. “It’s the oldest trick in the book.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “What? Saving my life? Getting slashed in the ribs?” She asked, glancing over at Spike. “He helped me with those guys last night,” she clarified, and honestly, that didn’t help his earlier annoyance at himself for not being there. He hadn’t, and Angel had, and bloody hell, one of these days he was just going to do…well,  _something_ painful and satisfying to the poofter.

“Duh,” Xander said with a snort. “I mean, guys’ll do anything to impress a girl, right, Spike?” He asked, and the vampire nodded. “I-I once drank an entire gallon of Gatorade without taking a breath.”

Willow nodded. “It was pretty impressive. Although later there was an ick factor.”

“Can we steer this conversation back to the events from earlier last night, perhaps?” Giles asked, coming over with a book in his hand. “You left the Bronze and were set upon by three unusually virile vampires.” He showed Buffy the picture.”Did they look like this?”

She looked at the image and nodded . “Yeah. What’s with the uniforms?”

“It seems you encountered the Three,” Giles said, and Spike sat up, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah?” He asked. “Shoulda figured. I mean, there  _were_  three of ‘em,” he deadpanned, earning an admonishing look from Giles. “Jokin’ aside, I heard of those blokes. They’re warrior-types, arrogant pillocks, but they can back it up.”

Giles nodded. “Exactly,” he said. “O-Obviously you’re hurting the Master very much. He- he wouldn’t send the Three out for just anyone. We’ll have to step up our weapons training. Spike?” He asked, and the vampire nodded.

Xander grinned. “Buffy, you should stay at my place, o-or Spike’s, until these samurai guys are history,”  he suggested.

“What?” She asked, turning to give him a look.

He nodded. “Yeah! And don’t worry about Angel, Willow can run to your house and tell him to get out of town fast,” he added with a grin at Spike, who grinned back. Ah, yes, being friends with Harris did come with bonuses.

“Angel and Buffy are not in any immediate jeopardy,” Giles said, deflating the two boys somewhat. “Eventually the Master will send someone else, but in the meantime the Three, having failed, will offer their own lives in penance.”

That having been said, the three teens left the library for the morning’s classes, leaving Spike to stew in his Angel-flavored annoyance until Buffy turned up later for her weapons training.

Giles had dragged out a weapons cabinet, and Spike was poking around in it interestedly when she arrived, dropping her back and jacket on the table and flouncing over, snatching a crossbow from the cabinet almost immediately.

“Cool!” She said excitedly. “Crossbow!” She glanced back in the cabinet, seeing the container of bolts and taking one out to look at it. “Oooh, look at these babies. Goodbye stakes, hello flying fatality. What can I shoot?” She looked between the two men, eyes shining with gleeful hope.

Giles sighed, taking the crossbow. “Um, nothing, yet. The crossbow comes later.” She pouted, but he didn’t acquiesce. “You’ll get to it in due time, I assure you, but first I’d like to see you become more proficient in melee combat. Relying on a ranged weapon will only dull your martial skills.” He glanced at Spike, who was watching the conversation with mild interest.

“Hey, I’m jus’ the punching bag,” he said dryly. “You’re the boss. What are we doin’ first?”

Giles rummaged through the cabinet, producing a pair of quarterstaves that made Spike’s eyes light up as he took one. “The quarterstaff, I think, will be a good place to start.”

“Giles, 20th century?” Buffy complained. “I’m not gonna be fighting Friar Tuck.”

Giles shook his head, handing her the other staff. “You never know with whom or what you’ll be fighting, Buffy,” he said sternly. “All in due time.”

“Rupert’s right,” Spike added easily, and as the two turned to watch, he deftly twirled his staff, grin never leaving his face at their expressions. “Anythin’ can be turned into a weapon. Street signs, branches, pool cues—” A pause. “Metal poles. You’re gonna be fightin’ just about anywhere, Buffy. Learnin’ how to use one of these means you’ve got that many more options when you’ve gotta improvise. Besides,” he added, whipping the pole up to tap her on the collarbone before she could react. “It’ll be  _fun_.”

The implicit challenge seemed to convince her, and the two spent the next couple hours sparring. It was a rush, getting to fight her, especially like this – it felt like two fights in one, now and from thirty years ago. Finally, they both stopped, staffs pointed at each others throats as they breathed heavily. Spike dropped his first, and Buffy followed suit, both slumping to lean against things and grin at each other.

“ _Hell_ , Buffy, you learn fast,” he said, grinning widely. “You’re good. Real good.” She beamed at him, heading over to put the weapons away as he kept talking, but his next words – said in the moment, the vampire not even realizing he’d said it – made her stop. “An’ you’ll just keep gettin’ better. Hell, you haven’t been at this for long, an’ you’re already amazin’. Was just like fightin’ Nikki again.”

He stopped, belatedly catching himself, and the looks on the others faces made him flinch, glancing away in shame – not at the memory of the fight, like he said, he would never be sorry for that night, but…

“Nikki?” Buffy asked, her voice cool. “Was she a Slayer, too?” There was a pause as she glanced at Giles, whose face confirmed it, and then she remembered something, her voice cooling further. “Oh, right. Angel said you killed two Slayers. She was one of them, right? Wow, that makes me feel special. Thanks for reminding me of that, Spike. I’d almost forgotten you were a vampire.” She marched over to her things, grabbing her stuff and leaving the room without a further glance.

“Oi! Angel’s a vampire, too, in case you forgot!” Spike called after her, voice angry, but she was gone. He sighed, deflating, sinking into a chair with a muttered curse and half-expecting Giles to start in on him, too. For his part, the Watcher just shook his head, copying Spike’s sigh.

“One does tend to forget that you are a vampire much easier than one forgets Angel is,” he told Spike quietly. “You act much more human, on most days. In Buffy’s defense, it is rather jarring to be reminded that you were once a killer and still have the capability of being one, especially when you’ve been such a regular presence in our lives, and a friend to us.” He paused. “I’ll admit to being thrown off as well – as a Watcher, the reminder that you took the lives of two Slayers…does not fill me with joy, to say the least.”

He paused, watching Spike seem to fold in on himself a little, before he continued. “But as I said, you have been a friend to us. You may have done terrible things, a great many – I have yet to crack open the Watcher’s journals that mention you, but I do know that much – but right now, you are our ally, friend, and companion, and you are her Champion. It does not erase the knowledge of what you’ve done, but…you are a different man, now, and I trust you with her.” A smile crossed his face as Spike’s head shot up, looking poleaxed. “And I’ll remind you that she  _is_  still a child – you can hardly blame her for her reaction.”

Once he recovered from the shock of Giles’ admission of trust, he sighed. “I know, an’ I don’t. I did kill Nikki, jus’ like I killed the Chinese one. An’ I’m not sorry, not for either of ‘em. They were Slayers, an’ I’m a vampire. It was me or her. We were warriors, all – it was anyone’s win, an’ I was just the one that made it.” He sighed. “It doesn’t bother me that she got upset – I can hardly blame her for that. It’s jus’…Angel.” He growled quietly. “She knows what he is, same as me. An’ he ain’t gonna remind her, I know him. He ain’t gonna say a word about anything that’ll make her think less of him.” And he’d been told not to say anything, either.

Bloody hell. This was going to be harder than he thought.

\----------------------------

It was late that night when there was a knock at Spike’s door, and he blinked awake from where he’d dozed off in front of the television. Levering himself out of the armchair, he opened the door – only to stare in stunned silence at the girl in the doorway.

“Hi,” Buffy said sheepishly. “Is this a bad time?”

Spike blinked, slowly, before shaking his head quickly. “No, I— I’d jus’ dozed off a bit, is all. C’mon in, Buffy,” he said, stepping aside to let her in, and she entered his apartment, looking around.

“Wow, it’s kinda…empty,” she noted, flopping down n the chair he’d just vacated. “Dunno what I was expecting…I think I kinda thought your place would look like the 80s exploded on it, with the way you looked when you got here and all.”

He let out a quiet snort of laughter, leaning against the wall and watching her. “Yeah, well. Haven’t got ‘round to decoratin’ yet,” he said quietly. “Why’re you here, Buffy?”

She blinked, looking caught. “I,uh. I…can’t I just visit?” She asked nervously, before wilting under his expectant stare. “Okay, okay. I just…I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah?” He said, half sure he knew where this was going and silently begging her not to go there. “So ask.”

She took a deep breath. “Can you tell me about Angel?”

And the world decided to lurch under him. Of course. Because nothing in his life could ever, ever be easy. Don’t tell her, he’d said. Don’t give anything away. And here she was, almost literally asking for him to do it. To tell her.  _Scylla and Charybdis,_  he thought bitterly, shaking his head. Slayer and the PTB. What a choice.

“Why don’t you ask Peaches himself, then?” He asked instead, hoping to delay the inevitable. “Or Rupert, failin’ that?”

Buffy sighed. “He…well, I asked Angel. He spent the day at my place, ‘cause day, and we talked when I got back, a-and he, uh—” She stopped, realizing what she was about to say and who she was about to say it to, before shaking her head in annoyance. He’d have to deal. “And he kissed me, and he kinda got all bumpy, which is  _majorly_  freaky, I gotta say, and then he went all ‘oh no I must go’ on me. I was trying to ask him about himself, you know, get him to tell me something – I mean, he told us more about  _you_  then he’s ever said about himself, but he just bailed.” She sighed. “And besides, Giles won’t let me touch his Watcher journals anyway.”

Spike’s fists had clenched when she admitted Angel had kissed her, and it took most of his willpower not to punch the wall. And so it begins, he thought bitterly. He just couldn’t keep his goddamn gorilla hands to himself, could he? He wasn’t her Champion, but he was still trying to pretend he was, to…to be in her life anyway. And apparently, he wasn’t allowed to stop it. Yeah, and watching it was  _so_ much fun.

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re askin’ me, pet,” he replied. “You know we aren’t exactly fond of each other.”

Buffy frowned at him, beginning to get annoyed. “Yeah, I got that. But you  _know_  him. You guys were, like…you’ve known him for decades. Personally. I mean, who better to ask? You’re the only guy who knows him that well who’d actually be willing to answer my questions.”

“Right,” he said, frustration making his voice sharp. “Ask the bloke you know is in love with you to tell you all about your bloody wannabe boyfriend. That’s a right brilliant idea you’ve got there. Whatever will you think of next?”

Buffy stood, suddenly angry. “You said you were okay with it!” She accused. “You— you said you didn’t mind!”

“Oh, right, of course, I told you I figured you wouldn’t love me back,” he snarled. “That means it’s perfectly alright to forget how I feel an’ come to me askin’ for  _bleedin’ advice on your love life!_ ”

“That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?!” Buffy demanded. “To help me! Why would they let you keep your stupid memories if you weren’t supposed to help?! I want to know about Angel, and you’re supposed to tell me!” She paused, realization flooding her face and making it stormy. “You’re jealous!” She snapped. “That’s what this is, you are  _totally_  jealous! My god, you are such a-a-a jerk! You can’t keep stuff from me just because you don’t like him! So I have a thing for him and not you, get over it! Do your freaking job and tell me what I wanna know!”

Dimly, Spike registered some bitter amusement at how familiar this scene was. Some things would never change. Maybe it was pointless to think he could ever have her. This would always happen. But those thoughts were secondary to the anger that blazed through him, and his eyes flashed dangerously.

And in that moment, he decided.  _Fuck it. She wants to know so bad, I’ll tell her._

“Fine!” He snarled, his voice loud enough to make Buffy flinch. “Fine, you wanna know about Angel?! I’ll tell you. But don’t blame me if you don’t like what you hear, pet, because all I’m sayin’ is the god’s honest truth!”

He didn’t wait for her to respond before continuing, his voice still raised and in a deadly, angry snarl. “Angelus is a monster. Worse than me. Worse than I could ever dream of bein’. An’ he always was. He was a lazy drunk an’ a useless whorin’ git in life, an’ in death he was a sadistic monster. First thing he did when he was turned was kill his entire family – mum, dad, an’ his little sisters. All of em, slaughtered ‘cause they were stupid enough to let their son in. An’ he jus’ got worse.”

He took an unneeded breath, and continued, every word pointed and vicious. “My sire, Dru – he’s the one that made her. You wanna know how? She was a nice girl, sweet an’ virginal an’ innocent – an’ he liked her. He liked her, so he killed everyone she ever loved, chased her anywhere she tried to run, drove her completely mad, an’ when she tried to take ‘er vows an’ become a nun…he turned her. I spent th’ better part of a century with Dru, an’ I know what he did better than anyone. He ruined her. An’ that’s what he does to the things he takes a fancy to. He ruins ‘em. Right after I was turned, he decided to teach me a lesson or two – found out I fancied Dru somethin’ fierce…an’ next thing I know, he’s shaggin’ her silly in our bed. Because he could. He calls himself an  _artist_  – an’ torture is his art. He kills you slow, takes away everythin’ you care about ‘til you’re left with nothin’ but your fear…an’  _then_  he kills you. That’s what Angelus is.”

“B-But his soul…” Buffy tried, and it was a sort of vicious thrill to hear the fear in her voice, even as it hurt him to scare her like this. “He has a soul, like you, he’s…that’s not him anymore.”

He snorted. “Right. His bloody soul. I said it was a curse, yeah? Lemme tell you how he got it.” He took a step forward, voice lowering. “He killed a gypsy girl, th’ favored daughter of th’ clan – I dunno the details, I wasn’t there, but I’m willin’ to bet killin’ her ain’t all he did. So he killed her, and the clan cursed the soul into him.” He shook his head. “Yeah, pet, he’s got a soul. But he didn’t want it. If he had a choice, he wouldn’t take it. He would  _never_  take it. Sure, he appreciates it now, loves th’ guilt – I think he gets off on it. He pretends he an’ Angelus are different people, calls himself Angel to separate him from the things he did – but it’s all bullshit. I have a soul now, I know the difference – an’ it was always me. Jus’ like it was always th’ same Liam – both Angelus an’ Angel; same guy, same choices. Th’ only difference is, Angel has a conscience. Knows right an’ wrong, an’ cares about the difference. Doesn’t make him any less capable. Jus’ makes him unwilling.”

He heard her sniffle, and for a split second wanted to take it all back, pretend he’d never said anything, because bloody hell, he can’t do anything right by her, can he? But she’d asked. She wanted to know, and he’d told her. It’s not his fault.

“He ain’t gonna hurt you, luv,” he said, voice softening slightly, though it was still loud and firm and angry. “He loves you same as me, an’ his soul means he ain’t gonna hurt you. I can promise you that much. But he’s a selfish git. He’ll say he can’t be with you, say it’s too dangerous, an’ then keep seekin’ you out because he jus’ likes the pain. He doesn’t care what it does to  _you_.”

Buffy looked away, trying not to show him the tears in her eyes. “What if I want him to stay?” She asked, her voice childish. “If he won’t hurt me, then isn’t it okay?”

“I said he won’t hurt you,” Spike said sharply. “I didn’t say it wasn’t dangerous.” Her eyes widened, and he knew, with all the certainty of his hundred years, that this was it. This was the moment. He had a choice, and it all came down to right now.

Did he tell her the rest? Or did he lie? Did he listen to Whistler, follow his rules, and let her have her childish romance, watch as it ended with all the grace of a Shakespearean tragedy and create wounds in her heart that never healed, or did he tell her what she had asked, save her the pain of this, and damn all the repercussions?

He looked at her, at the fear and hurt in her eyes, and he nearly chose not to. But then he saw something else…the steel in her eyes, the set of her jaw. She was afraid, she was hurt, but she still wanted to know.

“Go on, Spike,” she said quietly, her voice shaking. “I asked.”

And he told her.

“It’s the curse,” he said, feeling like he was listening to himself from far away. “Nature of a curse, luv, it can be broken. An’ unlike most, this is one you really don’t wanna break. This one turns th’ handsome prince into a monster. An’ it’s broken th’ same way, too.” He watched her eyes widen. “Yeah. Th’ curse is lifted when Angel has a moment of perfect happiness. An’ I don’t need to tell you th’ rest, you can put it together.”

“Oh my god,” she whispered. “Oh my— does he know?!” She demanded. “Does he know what he’s doing, kissing me?!”

He shook his head. “No, luv. I’ll give th’ bloke that much credit. He’s got no idea, either. Part of the punishment, I guess. But I know. I  _saw_.”

Buffy let out a quiet gasp. “I— he— oh my god. We— we— and he lost his soul? ‘Cause we—” He nodded, and she looked torn between rage and horror. “And you were planning on, what, not telling me!? Gee, thanks, Spike, let’s let me unleash a horrible monster on all my friends ‘cause my vampire boyfriend and I got frisky!  _Again!_  Way to help out!”

He flinched, knowing she was right. “Doesn’t matter what I was or wasn’t plannin’ on doing,” he said quietly. “I told you. Now you know. What you do with that’s up to you.”

There was a thick, heavy silence in the room, before Buffy shook her head, moving past him towards the door. “Thanks,” she said quietly, trying to calm her anger. “You’re right, you did tell me. I’ll probably appreciate it later, but right now I just wanna go home.”

“I’m not stoppin’ you,” he said, not turning around.

He heard the door open, and he sighed, closing his eyes and letting his shoulders slump, but Buffy’s voice spoke up again. “…I’m scared,” she admitted. “I like Angel, I really do, kinda in love with him a little, actually, but…he’s a vampire. A good one, but…it’s dangerous. And I’m scared.”

“Good,” Spike said quietly. “You should be. I’m sorry, Buffy, but I jus’ don’t want you hurt. I won’t stop you from havin’ feelings for him, ‘cause god knows how hard that’d be, but…be careful. Remember what I told you and be careful.”

He didn’t see her nod, but he heard her next words like she’d just staked him. “I will. But, Spike…you scare me, too.” He bit his lip to keep himself silent, but she continued. “Not— not for the same reason. I think I can trust you, a-and your soul’s not going anywhere. A-and we’re just friends. But…you scare me, because you love me so much. I barely even know you…I don’t know the me you fell in love with, a-a-and it’s…really heavy, you know? I haven’t done any of what you know I’ve done, I’m only sixteen, Spike. But you love me…I can see it when you look at me, and it feels like I’m in a movie, but I’m not her, Spike. And it scares me. I’m sorry. I…I want to be friends with you, I do, but…you still scare me. Thanks for telling me, and I didn’t mean to make you mad.” She sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The door shut behind her with a sense of finality, and he stumbled over to sink into the couch, head in hands.

“What the hell did I just do…?” He whispered. “I’m such a bloody wanker.”

\------------------------------

The next few days were spent in his apartment – and only in his apartment. He didn’t go to the library, he really didn’t even feel like getting out of bed. So maybe he was being a little overdramatic, but he still hadn’t recovered completely from his arrival here, and now this? It felt like she’d drop-kicked him back to square one, all with a few words.

_'I…I want to be friends with you, I do, but…you still scare me.'_

She probably couldn’t have hurt him more if she’d actually tried. He knew she had every right to be scared, every right to be intimidated by him – she was right, after all. She was only sixteen. He hadn’t fallen in love with her until she was…what, nineteen? Twenty? She had years to go before she was at the point where it had happened. She wasn’t that girl. She might never  _be_  that girl. And whether he’d meant to or not, he’d put his expectations on her, on a teenage girl who barely knew him. God, he was such an idiot. And then he’d gotten angry and had scared her on purpose, completely ruined the whole letting-it-happen thing. He didn’t want to face her. Didn’t want to look at her and know he scared her.

God, he was such a ponce. This was one of those times he really wished he could rip his soul out of his chest. It really didn’t make his life any easier. Especially when he was just waiting for Whistler to turn up and give him hell for…well, whatever. If it happened, it happened.

A knock at the door made him startle, but he didn’t get up. Whoever it was knocked again. And again. And finally, Xander’s voice echoed through the door. “Hey! Spike! Kinda hoping you’re not a pile of dust, and if you are I’m talking to myself, but really appreciate it if you let me in!”

Sighing, Spike rolled out of bed and padded to the door, swinging it open as Xander lifted his hand to knock. The boy blinked, grinned, and faltered. “Jeez, you look like crap,” he said bluntly. “Have you really been moping for the last few days? I thought that was Angel’s job.”

He moved past Spike as the vampire let him come in, and turned to eye him. “I mean, Buffy told us what you told her, and, uh, and Giles finally pulled out the Watcher Chronicles and confirmed basically what you told her, so…she’s kinda not as pissed at you anymore.”

“She thought I was lyin’?” Spike asked dully, and Xander shook his head.

“Oh— no! No, definitely, totally, no— okay, maybe a little. But now she doesn’t, and she’s sorry. And also worried.” He watched Spike shake his head in disbelief, and sighed. “I mean it, she’s worried. She told us she said some stuff to you that she kinda regrets saying, and we were  _all_ starting to get freaked out at you being a no-show for the past couple days.”

“Wasn’t gonna stake myself, if that’s what you were afraid of,” he muttered. “An’ she regrets it, yeah, but she  _meant_  it. S’ true whether she’s sorry ‘bout sayin’ it or not.”

Xander rolled his eyes. “So?” He asked. “Look, she didn’t tell us what she said, but I’m really not stupid, and I’ve got eyes and a similar affection for Buffy, you know,” he said. “I know you’ve got a full-on  _Gone with the Wind_  undying devotion thing going on over her, except for the part where you stop giving a damn. And hey, cool, that’s…actually that’s really impressive, considering the whole vampire thing. And yeah, I figure that kinda freaks her out. You and I both know you don’t hold that against her.” He grinned. “But that doesn’t mean you have to stop. Or turn into a hermit. And it doesn’t mean she doesn’t need you around. Especially given Angel’s whole detachable soul deal. She’s pissed at him, by the way,” he added offhandedly, and that got Spike’s attention.

“Yeah?” He asked.

Xander nodded. “Apparently this vampire chick from the Order, uh…Darla, she went after Buffy’s mom and tried to get her and Angel to kill each other – I think she didn’t know Buffy knew he was a vampire.” He paused, noticing Spike’s alarm and hurrying to add, “Oh, no, uh, she didn’t get in the house, uh, she tried, though. And she and Angel and Buffy had a big confrontation, all  _The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly_  style. And I guess some stuff was said, and Angel didn’t kill her, and she got away, and, uh, Buffy’s kinda pissed.”

“He didn’t kill Darla?” Spike asked, surprised. “He did last time…huh. Not that I care why, all it means is we have one more to kill later, and I wouldn’t say no to staking the bitch— I know her, she’s the git’s sire,” he explained off of Xander’s look. “It was her, Angel, Dru, an’ me for decades. Couldn’t  _stand_  her.” The two laughed, Spike’s mood easing somewhat, despite the feeling that something had gone wrong, and it was his fault. “So she’s still not dust, an’ Buffy’s brassed off ‘cause Angel didn’t stake her. Well, that  _does_  make me feel better. An’ at least Joyce is alright.”

Xander nodded. “Uh-huh. Hey, it’s early yet, and we’re all headed to the Bronze, wanna come?” He asked hopefully. “Get outta the house, get some fresh air, uh…get off of Tatooine, you know?”

“Thanks, but no,” Spike said, though his mouth twitched. “I appreciate the offer, Skywalker, but still not up to it. I’ll be by the library tomorrow, though.”

Xander saluted. “Holding you to that, Kenobi,” he joked. “I mean, you’re our only hope. Well, that and we miss having you around. Even Giles does. See you tomorrow, man!”

Spike grinned at him as he left, sighing and leaning against the counter after the door shut. He was going to have to suck it up sooner or later, really. Might as well do it sooner.

When Giles arrived the next morning to see Spike at the table, he couldn’t help but grin widely. “I was beginning to think I was going to have to form a search party,” he commented mildly. “It’s good to see you, Spike.”

“Yeah, good to see you too, Rupert,” Spike replied. “Sorry for worryin’ you.”

The librarian shrugged. “No need to apologize. It’s simply natural to worry about one’s friends. In any case, you certainly picked a good day to return. I’ve been told the computer science class is going to be—” He shuddered. “Scanning my books into their infernal devices. I’ll need all the moral support I can manage, in lieu of a stiff drink.”

Spike laughed. “Glad to be of service, mate,” he said, shaking his head. “It won’t be so bad. Doubt they can do any damage to the collection, with you on the case.”

The class came in late that afternoon, Xander Willow, and Buffy among them – Willow lit up upon seeing Spike, waving brightly and beaming at him, while Buffy’s eyes just widened, before she nodded awkwardly. Xander just threw him a salute as he passed. They set up the computers they’d wheeled in, and Spike watched with mild interest as the work began, boxes and crates of books being moved back and forth as the students scanned pages and Giles bustled around like a rather ruffled, tweed rooster. His eyes were drawn to the other teacher, though, and he frowned – she looked familiar.

“Hi, Spike,” came a voice, and he jumped, looking over at Willow, who’d sidled up to him with an armload of books. “Xander told us he talked to you yesterday, a-and I’m glad you’re back. We missed you.”

Spike reached out to tousle her hair. “Missed you, too, Red. Thanks. Had a rough coupl’a days, but I’m alright. How’s the computer project goin’?”

“Oh, it’s great!” She beamed, tugging him over. “Come watch!” She put her pile on the table next to her and made him sit down, and he leaned on the table to watch as the books appeared page by page on the screen.

The pair of them looked up when one of the other students, a mousy looking boy, put a large book on Willow’s pile.

“Uh, when I’ve examined it, Willow, you can uh— uh— skim it,” Giles told her awkwardly.

“Scan it, Rupert,” the computer teacher said, amused. “That’s  _scan_  it.”

Giles rolled his eyes. “Of course,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

The teacher looked even more amused. “Oh, I know, our ways are strange to you,” she said breezily. “But soon you will join us in the 20th century. With three whole years to spare!”

She laughed, grinning, and Spike had to laugh with her. He liked this bird already.

“Ms. Calendar,” Giles began, a bit smugly. “I’m sure your computer science class is fascinating, but I happen to believe that one can survive in modern society without being a slave to the, um, idiot box.”

Ms. Calendar – and now Spike knew who she was, he realized with a jolt; the gypsy Angelus had killed – rolled her eyes. “That’s TV,” she corrected, annoyed. “The idiot box is TV. This,” she patted a computer monitor. “Is the  _good_  box!”

“I still prefer a good book,” Giles replied, practically radiating British stuffiness to the point that Spike could almost  _feel_  it.

One of the students, a big, tough-looking guy, spoke up indignantly, dripping with self-righteousness. “The printed page is obsolete,” he snapped, standing up. “Information isn’t bound up anymore. It’s an entity. The only reality is virtual. If you’re not jacked in, you’re not alive.” With that said, he snatched up his books, stalking off.

“And, thank you, Fritz, for making us all sound like crazy people,” Ms. Calendar said dryly. “Fritz— he comes on a little strong, but he does have a point. You know, for the last two years more e-mail was sent than regular mail,” she told Giles.

He looked a little horror-struck. “Oh…”

“More digitized information went across phone lines than conversation,” she continued, and Giles just looked alarmed.

“That is a fact that I regard with genuine horror,” he told her, and she laughed.

“I’ll bet it is,” she teased him, before turning back towards the rest of the teens. “Alright, guys, let’s wrap it up for today.”

The students all started packing up, except for Willow, who kept working. “I’ve just got a few more,” she told Ms. Calendar. “I’ll hang for a bit.”

“Cool!” The teacher said with a grin. “Thanks, Willow.”

She nodded, and Spike watched her try to get Xander to stay, only for him to bail and leave with Buffy. She glanced over at him, pleadingly, and he smiled slightly. “I’ll stay for a bit, Red,” he told her. “I think I’m about to be pressed into service by Rupert, anyway.”

“You’d be right,” the librarian said, motioning for him. “I’m staying to clean up a little,” he explained awkwardly. “Come on, we’re— I’ll be in the middle ages.” He disappeared into the stacks, and Ms. Calendar glanced over at Spike, amused.

“Did he ever leave?” She asked him, and the two laughed, much to Giles’ dismay. That said, she waved at the Watcher, disappearing out the door.

Spike followed Giles into the stacks, still snickering, only to stop once the other man gave him a dirty look. “I would imagine you to be as unenthusiastic about technology as I am, Spike,” he said dryly. “Given your age, that is.”

“Nah,” Spike said, grabbing some books to put on the shelves. “I like technology. Comes in real handy sometimes. Th’ invention of CDs was prob’ly one of the best things ever. You don’t have to like it, but at least admit it’s pretty useful.”

Giles just grunted. “You’ll forgive me if I prefer more low-tech means of information and entertainment,” he muttered. “Why it was decided records had gone out of fashion is beyond me.”

Spike laughed, shaking his head. “Got a point, there,” he replied. “Not gonna lie, though, sometimes I think you Watchers are all stuck in th’ past, in every way possible. Not that I’ve met very many, but s’enough.”

“Thanks very much, Spike,” Giles said dryly. “Your commentary is, as always, appreciated.”

The two men left once the books were put away, Willow remaining behind – she promised she’d be fine, and she’d see them tomorrow.

And she did, but…it wasn’t noticeable at first, but by the time a week had gone by, everyone in the group had picked up on it – Willow was acting odd. Worryingly so, and apparently it was all over some boy named ‘Malcolm’. Everyone was concerned; Spike had enough on his plate with the fact that Buffy had been avoiding him since he’d stopped hiding in his apartment, and now Willow’s behavior was driving him up a wall in helpless frustration.

“I swear,” he muttered to Xander as they were waiting for Buffy to arrive in the library. “It’s like women in love completely lose any sort of common sense.”

Xander snorted. “Oh, you’re one to talk, Mr. My Crush Is Mad At Me So I’m Gonna Be A Hermit,” he teased. “I think it’s less ‘women’ and more ‘the entire universe’.”

As if on cue, Buffy walked in, ready to report her findings on what one of the shifty computer kids was up to. “Well, okay, so Dave is definitely up to something fishy,” she announced. “I followed him to this old company building, and I saw him drive up and talk to someone, and they went in together. Whatever he’s into, it’s large.”

Giles frowned. “What was the name of this place?” He asked, and Buffy shrugged.

“It said CRD, but I couldn’t get close enough to see what it was,” she explained.

“Calax Research and Development,” Xander said suddenly. “It’s a computer research lab. Third largest employer in Sunnydale ‘til it closed down last year.” He blinked, suddenly self-conscious as the others stared at him. “What, I can’t have information sometimes?”

Spike grinned. “Hey, it’s jus’ unusual, is all,” he teased.

“Well, my uncle used to work there,” Xander said defensively, before deflating. “I-in a floor sweeping capacity.”

Buffy frowned. “But it closed?” She asked, and Xander nodded. “Looked pretty functional from where I stood. I don’t have a clue what they were doing.”

“And what do they need this kid for, then?” Spike asked.

Buffy blinked, shifting awkwardly at Spike speaking directly to her. “U-Uh…something about computers, right? I mean, he is off-the-chart smart.”

“We still don’t know an enormous amount,” Giles admonished. “Whatever is going on there may still be on the up-and-up.”

Xander shook his head. “No, if CRD opened, it would’ve been on the news.”

“Besides,” Buffy added. “I can just tell something’s wrong. My spider sense is tingling.”

Giles looked confused. “Spider sense…?”

“Pop culture reference,” Buffy explained, and she, Xander, and Spike shared a laugh.

Unfortunately, before they could continue, Ms. Calendar arrived, and Buffy and Xander headed off…leaving Spike to sit through the pair of them having a spirited argument over books vs. computers. He sighed heavily, resting his head in his hands and only half-listening. Everyone was just too much to deal with sometimes.

“—Isn’t that right, um— what’s your name?” He jumped, looking up and blinking guiltily as Ms. Calendar looked at him expectantly.

“Uh— William,” he said, incredibly confused. “What am I agreein’ with now, Teach? Kinda missed the, uh…the entire conversation.”

She looked amused. “It’s alright, it’s nothing you probably haven’t heard already. Rupert here insists that we shouldn’t move forward and embrace technology, while I’ve been trying to convince him that, oh, what did I say? We are creating a new society, with knowledge accessible to anyone. What do you think, William?”

“Well, uh…” He glanced between her and Giles, feeling rather like a rat caught in a trap. “Can I refuse to take sides?” He asked, grinning slightly. “Kinda gotta work with the guy, y’know.”

Ms. Calendar laughed. “Oh, alright, that’s a reasonable excuse,” she teased. “You can keep poor old Rupert company, at least – better you than his musty, old books.”

“These musty old books have a great deal more to say than in any of your…fabulous web pages,” Giles snapped indignantly.

Ms. Calendar just raised an eyebrow, picking up a book to page through it. “This one doesn’t have a whole lot more to say,” she told him, showing him the blank pages. “What is it, like a diary?”

“How odd,” Giles blinked. “I haven’t looked through all the volumes yet, I didn’t, um…” He trailed off, having taken the book from her and closed it, staring in shock at the cover.

“What is it?” Ms. Calendar asked.

Giles looked puzzled, frowning distractedly at the tome. “Uh, nothing, um…a-a diary, yes. I imagine that’s what it is…” He trailed off, lost in thought. “Well, it’s been so nice talking to you,” he muttered, starting to walk back to his office.

Ms. Calendar blinked. “…We were fighting,” she said.

He didn’t seem to hear her. “Must do it again sometime, yes…bye, now,” he mumbled absently, disappearing into his office. Ms. Calendar raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Spike, who shrugged.

“Rrright,” she said, amused. “Odd man, isn’t he? Well, it was nice meeting you, William,” she told him, leaving.

He stared after her a moment, before going to stand in the doorway of Giles’ office, eyebrows raising as the Watcher stared at the book. After a moment, though, Giles looked up, as if just realizing something. “… _William?_ ” He asked.

\------------------------------

It was a few hours later when Xander got to the library, and Buffy wasn’t too far behind him – looking like she’d just stuck her finger in a light socket. Spike and Xander leaped to their feet in concern, but she insisted she was fine; she explained how Dave had nearly tricked her into going into the locker room shower (which had been rigged with an exposed power cord) only to warn her at the last second.

“I’m gonna kill Dave!” Xander declared angrily when she finished.

Buffy frowned. “He tried to warn me,” she reminded him.

“Warn you that he set you up?” Xander asked, before looking at Giles. “She gonna be okay?”

He nodded, handing her a mug of tea. “She was only grounded for a moment. Still, if she had been anyone but the Slayer…”

Buffy had a moment of concern over her hair (to which the boys reassured her it was fine) before she sat back, thoughtful. “I just…don’t understand what would make Dave do a thing like that.”

“I think perhaps I do,” Giles said, bringing the book from earlier over to put it on the table. “Does this look familiar to any of you?”

They all looked at it, and shook their heads. “Yeah, sure,” Buffy said blandly. “It’s a book.”

“I knew that one,” Xander added with a grin.

Spike snorted. “Sorry, mate, I got nothin’.”

Giles nodded, beginning to explain. “In the Dark Ages, the souls of demons wer sometimes trapped in certain volumes. They remained locked within the book, harmless, unless the pages were read aloud. Unless I’m mistaken, this is Moloch, the Corrupter. A very deadly and seductive demon. He draws people to him with promises of love, power, knowledge. Preys on impressionable minds.”

“Like Dave’s,” Xander said, and Giles looked over at him.

“Dave, and who knows how many others,” he agreed.

Buffy reached over to poke the book. “And Moloch is inside that book?” She asked, but Giles shook his head.

“Not anymore,” he replied, and opened it – to reveal the empty pages.

Spike blinked. “Well, bugger,” he said flatly. “Some wanker let him out, then?”

“So wait,” Buffy said. “A powerful demon with horns is walking around Sunnydale, and nobody’s noticed?”

Xander frowned. “And i-if he’s so big and strong, why bother with Dave? I mean, why didn’t he just attack Buffy himself?”

“I don’t know,” Giles admitted. “And I don’t know who could’ve read that book. It wasn’t even in English.”

Spike glanced over at him. “Well, where was it?”

“Uh, in a pile with others that were, um…scanned,” he answered, trailing off.

There was a long moment of silence as they all turned as one to look over at the computer sitting innocently in the room.

“He’s in  _there_ ,” Buffy said slowly, staring at it.

Giles looked floored. “The scanner read the book. It brought Moloch out as information to be absorbed.”

“He’s gone binary on us,” Buffy joked.

Xander was still staring at the computer. “Okay,” he began slowly. “For those of us in our studio audience, who are me?” He pointed. “You guys are saying…Moloch is in this computer.”

“And every computer connected to it by a modem,” Buffy added.

Spike blinked. “That….that’s bad, then,” he said brow furrowed. “So, what…can we jus’ delete the bloody thing?”

“I’m gonna try!” Buffy said brightly, sitting down at the computer and starting to press buttons. “I think it must be this file, the one marked Willow…lemme just..”

Before she could do anything, the monitor flickered and a monstrous, demonic face appeared on it. “Stay away from Willow!” It snarled. “It is none of your business!”

And then it was gone, leaving them all to stare at the screen.

“So that’s what Malcolm looks like,” Buffy said brightly.

With the discovery that Willow’s online boyfriend was their demon, the four of them burst into action, Buffy running off to check the computer lab…and finding Dave’s body. That just spurred them to act quicker, and Giles set to work trying to figure out a way to get Moloch out of the computers while the rest of them headed to Willow’s house to find her, Spike able to accompany them since the sun had set.

Spike waited impatiently outside for the two teens while they ran in to look, only for them to bolt out minutes later with the information that Willow had been kidnapped, and most likely taken to that CRD building Buffy had seen Dave going into.

Buffy briefly phoned Giles to report in, and then they charged the building. They entered the lobby, Buffy knocking out the security guard before they found Willow on the security cameras and headed in that direction.

They finally found the lab, but Buffy couldn’t open the door. She growled, kicking it. “I can’t bust it,” she complained. “It’s heavy steel.”

“Let me try, pet,” Spike offered, before shifting into game face and ramming against the door. It dented slightly, but remained firm. He growled, before trying again – and then alarms started going off.

Xander’s eyes widened. “What did you do?!” He yelped, running to the other door in the room and yanking at it, only for it to be locked. “What’s going on?!”

Buffy looked around, before pointing at a security camera. “Uh…building’s security system is computerized,” she said quietly, looking horrified.

“Whoops,” Xander muttered, as there were several clicking noises, and with a hiss the room started to fill with gas.

Spike swore. “Bloody  _fuck!_ ” He hissed, whipping around to look at the teens. “Hold your breaths! I’ll get this damn door down!”

He redoubled his efforts to break the door down, keeping an eye on the two humans as he slammed his shoulder against the door again and again. The dent in the metal kept getting deeper, but there was no significant effect, and he began to panic slightly as Xander started coughing, sliding to the floor with a weak thump, and Buffy leaned against the wall looking dizzy.

Suddenly, a scream from in the lab – followed by another – echoed, and the door clicked open just as Spike rammed into it one last time, sending him sprawling into the room. He recovered quickly, leaping to his feet as Buffy helped Xander in, and she and Spike took in the scene quickly – the staggering metal demon, and the terrified Willow. Buffy moved first, leaping at the demon in kick, only to connect with a dull thud and fall to the floor.

“Ow!” She yelped. “Guy’s made of metal!”

Xander moved around them, struggling with the technician in the room as Spike charged to help Buffy, trying to tackle Moloch himself, only to bounce off as well with a grunt.

“Hey!” He heard Xander yelp. “I got to hit someone!” He glanced over, seeing the technician unconscious, and motioned to the boy.

“Harris! Get Red an’ go!” He yelled, and Xander nodded, grabbing willow by the hand and bolting out the door with her and leaving Buffy and Spike lone with the demon, who was howling and clutching his head.

“No!” He yelled. “I won’t go back!” Eventually, his screams petered out as the two warriors watched warily, and he slowly looked up at them, robotic eyes glowing with rage. “I was omnipotent! He roared at them. “I was everything! Now I’m trapped in this mortal shell!”

“Sucks to be you, mate,” Spike said mockingly. “Now c’mon, let’s dance.” He and Buffy shifted into fighting stances, but Moloch didn’t seem to want to play – he strode forward, swinging his arms out at the two and knocking them away hard, the metal limbs sending them sprawling. He stalked out of the room, and Buffy and Spike, somewhat dazed, scrambled to their feet and down the hall after him.

They followed him down the hall, and watched him around a corner – they turned it themselves just in time to see Xander crash into the wall and slump, unconscious. He moved to grab him by the collar, but then Willow’s voice rang out behind him. “Hey, Malcolm!” She yelled. “Remember me, your girlfriend?!”

A fire extinguisher was in her hands and she swung, slamming it into him hard enough for him t let go of Xander. “Well, I think it’s time we break up!” She yelled, hitting him again. “Or maybe we can still be friends!” She tried again, but this time he caught the extinguisher, ripping it away from her and tossing it to the side, grabbing her and throwing her against the wall next to Xander before turning again to face the other two.

“This body’s all I have left,” he snarled. “But it’s enough to crush you!”

Spike glanced around, noticing a junction box on the wall and getting Buffy’s attention, indicting it. “I’ll hold him, you do th’ rest?” He asked quietly, and she nodded. Plan set, he turned toward Moloch, grinning wide. “Take your best shot, mate,” he growled back, before charging the demon, letting himself get hit in order to lure him over to the box, before Buffy took over the taunting.

“C’mon, betcha can’t hit me, Terminator!” She called, and he swung angrily. She ducked, and Spike rammed into him from behind, making sure his metal fist connected with the box. Both of them rolled away in time, watching from the floor – Spike grabbing the other two teens and shielding them from the blast – as the robotic body overloaded, exploding into pieces, the head rolling to a stop right in front of them.

There was a moment of silence as they stared at it, before Spike spoke. “Do  _all_  of your bloody crushes end up like this, you lot?!” He asked exasperatedly, and the four exchanged looks before bursting into laughter, which eventually petered out as their expressions fell.

\------------------------------------

They ended up at the Bronze the next night, still a bit exhausted from the previous night’s escapades, but at least they were all talking normally again, Buffy seemingly having decided to stop avoiding Spike – for all intents and purposes, it seemed like everything had righted itself. Nothing like fighting alongside each other to get you talking again.

Eventually, though, Buffy glanced at Xander and Willow, and they begged off to go ‘dance’ again, which had already come to mean ‘let’s leave them alone for a sec’ in Scooby-speak. Once it was just the two of them, Buffy sighed.

“I was meaning to talk to you since you, uh…since you started coming to school again – oh my god, that sounds _so weird_ , by the way – but I’ve also been kind of avoid-y, and I’m sorry. So…can we talk?” She asked.

Spike watched her quietly, unsure, before nodding. “Yeah, ‘course we can,” he said, sighing inwardly. How hard was it to say no to her, damn it? Apparently impossible. Buffy smiled slightly at him, though, which eased his nerves somewhat.

“Kay, good,” she told him, taking a deep breath. “Did, uh…did Xander tell you what happened with Angel and his skanky sire?” She asked, and he let out a snort of laughter.

“Skanky— oh, that’s good. That’s brilliant,” he said, amused. “Yeah, he told me. I know Darla, she’s a right bitch. Shame Angel didn’t have the brass to off her. But that just means we’ll have to do it, yeah?” He smiled. “Still, glad your mum’s alright. I like Joyce.”

Buffy smiled back. “Thanks. Yeah, she’s— you know my mom?” She asked, blinking. “Wait, no, obviously you do. You must know her from last time…hoo boy, I’m not thinking about the implications, there. Anyway, yeah, that’s how it happened, and yeah, I’ve definitely got a stake with her name on it. And yeah, kinda pissed at Angel.” She sighed. “But that’s not the only reason I’m mad at him,” she admitted. “I didn’t tell Xander this, ‘cause I knew he wouldn’t like it, but…”

She leaned in slightly, looking preoccupied. “I told him you told me…what you told me. I mean, I think he appreciated knowing about the curse, sort of…okay, no, he was pretty much really cheesed off that you told me all of that, even though I said like fifty times I made you tell me.” She sighed. “He said some stuff about you that I’m not gonna repeat, but it’s safe to say I told him that you’re my friend, and I don’t care about your history, if he can’t say anything nice about you, he’d better just shut up about you altogether, ‘cause I don’t wanna hear it.”

“You said…really?” Spike asked, taken by surprise. “I mean…thanks, but…what about th’ two of you? What’re you gonna do?” He asked. “I don’t wanna end up bein’ the guy that ruined it for you, as much as I hate Peaches.”

Buffy shrugged. “I told him we’d see,” she admitted. “I’m still kind of in love with him a little, and he likes me back, but after what you said, I’m gonna…keep him a little bit at arm’s length, I guess. Take it real slow. And no way are we having sex, like ever.” She smiled. “I think I gotta thank you, though. I get the feeling taking it slow wouldn’t have even registered on the radar if you hadn’t said anything, and…dunno. I feel like this is…better. We can be more thinky and less kissy, I mean.”

He nodded, a weak smile finally ending up on his face. “Glad I could help,” he said quietly. “I mean…I’m glad I could make somethin’ work out better for you. As long as you’re happy, Buffy, you jus’ do what’s best. All I want is for you to be safe an’ happy.”  _And mine_ , he added mentally. _But that one’s not happenin’, so I’ll settle for the first two._

“And I really appreciate it,” she told him. “I mean, I get the feeling Xander would be the first one in line to stake Angel, and Will’s all for the romance, and Giles is  _Giles_ , but…you let me decide what I want. Like…you told me what I wanted to know, and then let me decide what I wanted to do, even if I’m pretty sure I know what  _you_  want me to do. Considering I’m Destiny Girl and all, getting to decide stuff for myself is a huge bonus. So…thanks for that. I’m really glad you’re here, Spike, and I’m sorry I pissed you off,” she told him. “I’m…still scared of you a little, but the thing is, I wanna be friends with you. And you’re a  _really_  good friend. Can we do that?” Her voice had shifted to an almost childish tone as she asked, and he couldn’t keep the smile on his face from widening.

“Yeah, Buffy,” he said sincerely. “We can do that. So long as you treat me all right, I’m happy with anything you can give me.” Friendship with Buffy…that had been something that had been only brief, fleeting moments before, only solidifying into something that could be a real friendship during that last year. And now she was asking him, with that wide-eyed sincerity of hers, if they could be friends…because  _she wanted to be his friend._  If he hadn’t known any better, he’d have written this off as a dream. More than he could have asked for, really, and he’d take it.

She beamed at him. “Great!” She said happily. “Really, that’s great. Now we’re, uh, now we’re all friends, a-a-and…and things just got kinda awkward, so let’s go find the others, okay?” She asked, reddening.

“’Course, luv,” he said with a laugh, and they slid off their chairs, heading off to get Xander and Willow.

He had a feeling that what he’d done would end up getting him in trouble somewhere down the line, but right now…right now, with Buffy’s friendship freely given, and her happiness assured (at least in this), he couldn’t bring himself to care too much.


	7. Make 'em Laugh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, first time I missed a day -- but don't worry, chapter 8 will also be up tonight, probably. This is like, the shortest chapter so far, and I'm not that upset about it. It was like pulling teeth to finish it once I got about halfway through, jeez (which is why it wasn't up til now). Thankfully this is the last boring chapter to write, since the next one is 'Nightmares' and I have so much planned... Anyway, I do wanna apologize for the rampant recapping in the chapters that's been going on -- Season 1 is kinda the setup season, and there's not much to change, so a lot of it ends up being a rehash. Once Season 2 starts, then I can promise you a lot less of that and a lot more original/changed content. :)
> 
> Chapter contains dialogue from 'The Puppet Show' by Dean Batali and Robert Des Hotel.

The arrival of the new principal was met with fairly little fanfare – Spike, who’d recognized the small, misanthropic Snyder, just rolled his eyes when he was informed – and things had gone about as usual for a few days. But then came the announcement of an annual talent show, and Giles had been roped into (well, more like ordered) being in charge of it. It was safe to say that none of the four others in the group were able to stop laughing for a good few minutes.

Well, Spike stopped laughing when Giles forced him along for the ride, claiming that if he was helping him in the library, he would be helping him with this as well. And so that’s why he was there, slumped low in one of the auditorium chairs and glaring helplessly at the stage while Cordelia (he’d forgotten about her when she’d been attacked by the Madison witch, but oh, did he remember her now, and he kind of wished he didn’t) butchered some poor, innocent song.

“Thank you, Cordelia,” Giles interrupted, almost a hint of desperation in his voice. “Tha-that’s going to be lovely.”

The girl blinked. “But I didn’t get to the part with the sparklers!” She protested.

“Um, w-we’ll, um…save that for the dress rehearsal,” Giles told her, trying to shoo her off as quickly as possible. “Uh, Lisa, please!”

Cordelia huffed, replacing the mic and flouncing off the stage to be replaced by a girl with a tuba. Spike slumped even lower, groaning, as the girl started to play. “Have I ever told you that you could give Angelus a run for his money in the torture department, Rupert?” He said, shooting the man a wounded expression.

“You might possibly have said that a time or six over the past couple hours,” Giles replied, a smile twitching across his face, which fell almost immediately as Buffy, Xander, and Willow appeared next to them in the center aisle.

“Well, if it isn’t the great producer and his dashing assistant,” Buffy said cheerily as they moved to sit in the seats around the two.

Xander was grinning. “Had to see this to believe it,” he said.

“Oh,” Giles grumbled. “You three.”

Buffy glanced over at the stage. “The school talent show,” she mused. “How ever did you finagle such a primo assignment? And how did you get Spike to suffer with you?”

“Our new Fuhrer, Mr. Snyder, for the first,” Giles said dryly. “As for the second, with only mild coercion.”

Willow giggled. “I think they call ‘em ‘principals’ now,” she teased.

“Mm,” Giles said, shaking his head. “He thought it would behoove me to have more contact with the students,” he explained, sounding like he was talking about having his teeth pulled. “I did try to explain that my vocational choice of librarian was a deliberate attempt to…to  _minimize_  said contact, but, uh…he would have none of it.”

Buffy reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. “Giles,” she began, her voice comically solemn. “Unto every generation is born one who must run the annual talent show. You cannot escape your destiny.” She glanced over at Spike, who had doubled over in silent laughter. “And, of course, every talent-show runner has an assigned Watcher,” she added, teasingly, making his laughter stop abruptly, his head shooting up and fixing her with an offended look.

“If you had any shred of decency, you would have participated,” Giles said, just as offended. “Or at least, um, helped.”

Buffy grinned. “Nah!” She said brightly. “I think I’ll take a page out of your book..and watch!”

“And mock!” Xander added.

“And laugh!” Willow finished, and all three of them dissolved into giggles.

Buffy stood, still giggling. “O-kay,” she chirped. “I think maybe we better leave our brave producers to this business they call show.” They all got up, heading back up the aisle, Spike watching them go…and watching them be stopped by Snyder.

And be forced to participate in the talent show, much to his ill-disguised glee as they trudged back to sit down. “Well, look who we have here,” he said, clearly enjoying himself while Giles smirked. “Our newest  _talents._  Can’t wait to see what you three perform for us.”

“Shut up, Spike,” Xander mumbled, though without any venom in it.

Unfortunately for all five of them, the next act – Morgan, a would-be ventriloquist, and his dummy, Sid – was absolutely terrible. Spike moaned, putting his head in his hands, too pained by the act to tease Buffy about her dislike of dummies. But…then the act decided to stop being terrible, and almost be interesting. Although Spike watched the dummy with some suspicion. Probably unfounded, but…yeah, he was just  _looking_  for something better to do at this point. It was just a stupid piece of wood.

“There, you see?” Giles said, gesturing at the stage. “I’m sure you three can come up with something…equally exciting.”

Buffy just sighed.

\-------------------------------

The next day, they were all back in the auditorium for more tryouts. Spike leaned against the seats as he watched Giles and Snyder approached, hiding an amused grin.

“…the kind of woolly-headed, liberal thinking that leads to being eaten,” the diminutive principal was saying.

Giles frowned. “I-I think perhaps it was a little more complex than, um…”

Snyder ignored him. “This place has quite a reputation. Suicide, missing persons, spontaneous cheerleader combustion… You can’t put up with that. You gotta keep an eye on the bad element…and who are  _you?_ ”

Spike froze – the two had stopped halfway to the stage, right in front of him…and Snyder was glaring at him. He exchanged a look of horror with Giles, and they both launched into an attempt at an explanation.

“My— my nephew, ah—”

“Uh, William. William Pratt, uh, I’m helpin’ Rupert in the library—”

“He’s assisting me purely voluntarily, so there’s no need to worry—”

“There’s— there’s no need t’concern yourself, mate, I’m not gonna cause any trouble—”

Snyder had clearly stopped listening after ‘assisting’ and ‘voluntarily’, continuing to speak. “Whatever. As I was saying, you’ve got to keep an eye on the bad element. Like those three,” his eyes narrowed as he indicated Buffy’s trio. He snorted. “Kids. I don’t like them. From now on, you’re gonna see a very different Sunnydale High. A tight ship, clean, orderly…” He paused for effect. “And quiet.”

That said, he did his best attempt to walk off imperiously, leaving the two men alone again. They stared at each other for a very long moment, not quite sure what had happened. Hell, Spike had no idea why his real name – something he hadn’t actively used since taking the name ‘Spike’; even in recent memory, Buffy had only used to call him ‘William’ when she was trying to be deadly serious or to hurt him – had slipped out. Some of it was possibly trying to save everyone a little trouble by not going by something as, uh, unique as ‘Spike’ in front of  _Snyder_ , of all people, but part of it was probably the fact that, well…

“Nephew?” He asked, raising an eyebrow and trying not to sound flattered. Because he wasn’t. “Where’d that one come from?”

Gile shrugged innocently. “It seemed appropriate at the time, and I can hardly claim to have a son. I might ask you where  _your_  part of our explanation came from— you never did explain to me why on Earth you introduced yourself to Ms. Calendar the same way.”

“You really  _haven’t_  read my entry in your journals, have you?” He said dryly. “My other nickname’s William the Bloody, Rupert, it’s my real name. Jus’ don’t tend to use it much these days. Well, at all, really. Bit of a mouthful, innit?”

Giles looked embarrassed. “Yes, well, Angel had already given us enough information to go on, and you’ve proven yourself quite the ally, so I saw no need to, ah, investigate further for the time being.” He shrugged. “Though I’ll admit to being quite tempted, for knowledge’s own sake.”

“You just didn’t want to ‘cause you didn’t wanna know th’ mayhem an’ chaos I’ve gotten up to,” Spike accused, though he was grinning. “For  _shame_ , Watcher, where’s your sense of morbid curiosity? Thought it was part of the job description. You always get excited when we run into somethin’ new ‘round here, after all.”

“Being interested in previously unseen supernatural phenomena is rather different from going out of my way to read up on a colleague’s sordid history,” Giles replied stiffly, before a slight, almost mischievous grin found its way onto his face. “Angel’s biography, however, held no such issue for me. I only refrained from speaking of it as he seems to be keeping himself scarce.”

Spike couldn’t help but admit to himself, finally, that yes, he  _was_  incredibly flattered. Not only had Giles admitted to holding him in high enough esteem to refrain from looking up his bloody past out of respect, he had also all but admitted that he did  _not_  respect Angel at all. Which was satisfying, to say the least.

The conversation screeched to a halt, however, upon the discovery of a body in the girls’ locker room. Spike waited with Buffy and the others while Giles went to inquire, and in minutes he was returning to the hall, face solemn. “It was Emily,” he explained.

“Emily,” Willow said slowly, and then her eyes widened. “Dancer Emily?”

Xander groaned. “Oh, man!” He exclaimed. “I hate this school.”

“It must have happened just after, uh, dress rehearsals,” Giles said, adjusting his glasses. “There was a cross-country meet at Melville. She- she never showed up for it.”

Buffy frowned. “Vampire?”

“I think not,” Giles said quietly, and Spike raised an eyebrow.

“You gonna tell us what happened, Rupert?” He prompted.

He nodded slowly, letting out a breath. “Her heart was removed.”

Willow yelped, eyes widened, and Buffy’s brow furrowed. “Does that mean anything to you?” She asked. “Besides…” She trailed off, shuddering demonstratively and making a face.

“Uh…there are various demons which feed off human hearts,  but…” Giles began, before glancing behind him at the locker room, where a bloodied knife was being put into an evidence bag.

Buffy’s frown deepened. “But demons have claws, and teeth…” She said slowly. “Probably don’t need a big old knife.”

“Means we might have a human killer on our hands, then, yeah?” Spike asked.

Xander groaned. “Did I mention that I  _hate_  this school?!”

“So Emily was killed by a regular human person?” Willow asked.

Giles nodded. “The evidence certainly points that way,” he admitted.

“No, wait,” Buffy protested. “I-I’m not buying, you guys. Remember the Hellmouth? Mystical activity is totally rife here. This to me says demon.”

Spike shook his head. “Yeah, it still could be, but I wouldn’t write off it bein’ a human just yet, Buffy,” he said. “Sometimes, humans can be jus’ as bad as demons. Sometimes worse.” He thought back to the things he’d seen in Sunnydale that had proved that – those nerds, the Initiative, that one kid who’d asked to be turned, that friend of Giles’…yeah, some humans could be pretty shitty.

There was silence as they all contemplated that, and then Giles shrugged, frowning. “Uh, demon or no, we have some investigating to do. I suggest we start with your…you talent show compatriots. One of them may have been the last to see her alive.”

Spike returned to the library to wait for the others, knowing full well that students were more likely to talk to either fellow students or their librarian then a complete stranger – and really, it ended up not taking very long, as within half an hour, everyone was back – and with a common consensus. It seemed that most of the other teens pointed their fingers at one person specifically – Morgan, the ventriloquist.

“Well, what do we do?” Xander asked? “We don’t slay him, right? We wanna bring him to justice.”

Willow brightened. “We could set up a complex sting operation where we get him to confess!” She suggested excitedly.

“I should wear a wire!” Xander added.

Spike snorted. “Hold up, there, Steed an’ Peel,” he joked. “Sure, the kids are fingerin’ our dummy totin’ boy as likely suspect, but that don’t mean he’s our man. What about our demon theory, Rupert, you got anything?”

Giles shook his head. “I’m looking into that, but, uh, my investigation is somewhat…hampered by our life in the theater.”

“Uh, priority check, Giles?” Buffy asked, gesturing. “Talent show, or murder?”

“Principal Snyder is watching us all very closely,” Giles reminded her, sounding displeased. “Now, if he chooses, he can make all our lives extremely difficult. A Slayer cannot afford that! We will find this murderer, but in the meantime…the show must go on.”

Buffy pouted. “This is so unfair,” she complained.

Giles asked Buffy to keep an eye on Morgan, check his locker, and with assignments passed out, they all departed for the evening.

Next day, as usual, Spike and Giles were suffering through rehearsals for the talent show. Giles was attempting to fend off Cordelia, while Spike was perched on a seat watching him with no small amount of amusement and much less sympathy. When Buffy walked down the aisle towards them, he glanced over at her. “Hey, Buffy,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You look like hell. Somethin’ happen?”

She sighed, sitting down next to him as Giles came over. “Where’s Morgan?”

“Did he do something to you?” Xander asked, popping up from wherever he’d been.

Buffy shook her head. “No, it was his…Sid, the dummy.”

That got everyone’s attention. They all turned to stare at her, making Buffy sink down a bit in her seat, embarrassed. “Okay, everyone look at me like I’m in a bunny suit, ‘cause that’s how stupid I feel saying this…” She began. “I think Sid was in my room last night.”

“With Morgan?” Willow asked, but Buffy shook her head.

“No,” she said. “He was alone. And alive.”

Xander’s eyes widened. “Did you see him?”

“Well, I saw something,” Buffy admitted. “I-it ran across my floor, under my bed, and then it attacked me.”

Giles raised an eyebrow. “Attacked you? How?”

“It was like it pounced on my face,” she replied, and Xander just grinned slightly.

“Like a cat,” he said.

Buffy nodded. “Yeah, exactly! But when I turned the lights on it was already gone. I-I think it went out my window.”

“Like a cat,” Xander repeated, pointedly.

“Yeah!” Buffy replied, then shook her head, annoyed. “No! It was Sid the dummy.”

Giles chuckled. “Or possibly the nightmare of somebody who had…dummies on her mind,” he said gently.

“You did say they creep you out,” Willow pointed out.

Buffy pouted. “Excuse me? Can I have a little support here, please? Spike, come on. I’m not just some crazy person, I’m the Slayer.”

“Gotta admit, Rupert, she’s got a point,” Spike replied. “An’ I’m not jus’ on her side ‘cause I’m biased. I’ve seen weirder shit than a livin’ dummy, and you really never know. I thought the thing seemed kinda suspicious.”

Giles sighed. “This is true, but I, uh, I may have found a possible demon culprit,” he told them, holding up a book he’d been carrying under his arm. “There’s a reference in here to a brotherhood of seven demons who take, uh, the form of young humans. Every seven years these demons need human organs, a-a-a brain and a heart, to maintain their humanity. Otherwise they revert back to their original form, which is, uh, slightly less appealing.” He flipped to a page, showing them the picture.

“So…Morgan could still be the guy, only demon Morgan instead of crazy Morgan?” Willow asked.

Giles looked over at Morgan, who was on the stage, thoughtfully. “It’s said that these demons are- are preternaturally strong, and- and Morgan is… Well, he seems to be getting weaker every day.”

The rehearsals ended, and Giles and Spike headed back to the library to see if they could find out more about the demon brotherhood in question while the teens went to class. That afternoon, having been commandeered to retrieve costumes by Giles, he, Spike and the girls entered the library to see Xander…holding Sid.

“Ack!” Buffy yelped. “Where did you get that?!”

Xander looked up in surprise. “Oh, I, uh, took it out of Mrs. Jackson’s cupboard. I thought you said you wanted to be able to speak to Morgan alone, and uh…well, Morgan’s alone, and…Sid’s with me.” He paused, and a grin flashed across his face as he played with the dummy, making it talk and putting on a fake accent. “Hi, Buffy! Hi, Willow! Hi, Spike! Would you like to hear some off-color jokes?”

“I really don’t think you should be doing that,” Buffy told him, and Xander looked innocently confused.

“What?” He asked. “C’mon…” He held up the dummy again. “I’m not real!”

Buffy frowned, looking creeped out. “Xander, quit it!” She turned around, crossing her arms as Xander shrugged at the others, banging Sid demonstratively into the table a couple times.

“He’s not real!” He said, amused. “I think our demonstration here proves that, uh, Sid here—” He rapped on the dummy with his knuckles. “Is wood. Now, why don’t you go and find Morgan and prove he’s…whatever he is.”

Giles raised an eyebrow. “I imagine he’s looking for his puppet.”

“I’ll go find Morgan, then,” Buffy said, shooting a dirty look at Xander. “You watch the dummy.”

Xander made Sid wave. “Bye-bye, now,” he said as the dummy. “I’m completely inanimate!” He paused, waving the thing around a little. “Redrum! Redrum!”

Giles rolled his eyes as Spike laughed. Willow glanced between them and Xander, frowning. “What do we do with him?”

Xander shrugged. “Eh, I’ll keep him company.”

“I’ll sit with Harris an’ our wooden friend,” Spike volunteered. “I still don’t trust the thing. Red, s’your turn to help out Rupert, alright?”

Willow saluted. “To the demon section of the card catalog!” She declared, hurrying off with Giles while the two boys sat at the table.

Xander went about doing his homework, while Spike lazily rested his chin in a hand, staring aimlessly at the dummy. He was half-tempted to start poking it, just for the hell of it, but Xander had already manhandled it enough, and if he was right (and not just being paranoid) and the dummy  _was_  alive and a terribly good actor, he didn’t want on its hit list. Mostly because the fact that it was made of wood made it pretty much a possibly-sentient piece of vampire kryptonite.

As nothing continued to happen, he stood for a moment, turning to watch the door as he stretched, before glancing back to the table – and cursing. “Bloody hell!” He yelped, and the other three turned around in surprise. “It’s gone! The bleedin’ dummy is gone!”

“What?!” Giles yelped. “Oh, no!”

There were several moments of frantic concern as Giles explained that Willow had found information that might hint towards Sid actually being the murderer, but they were derailed incredibly fast when Buffy came back in…carrying the dummy, and explaining that yeah, he was alive, and he was kind of actually on their side.

She put him on the table, and he looked around at all of them. “You should really be nicer to other people’s property, kid,” Sid said, turning to look at Xander, who yelped and nearly fell off his chair.

“You really  _are_  alive!” Willow gasped. “So what are you doing here, with, uh, Morgan? I mean if you and him aren’t the murderers.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “See, I told you I was suspicious,” he pointed out. “I knew it all along.”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course you did, vamp,” Sid said dismissively, startling them all. “Oh, come on, you think I didn’t notice? Besides, you called the guy Spike, and most demon hunters worth their salt have heard of  _him._  Didn’t get the memo he’d switched sides, but hey! Been out of the loop a while.” He shrugged. “Anyway, yeah, this is what I do. I hunt demons.” He paused, rolling his eyes at their expressions. “Yeah, wouldn’t know it to look at me, but it’s true. Let’s just say there was me, there was a really mean demon, there was a curse, and the next thing I know I’m not me anymore. I’m sitting on some guy’s knee with his hand up my shirt.”

“Curse?” Spike asked, eyebrow raising and a thought hitting him that he couldn’t help but voice. “Now why couldn’t Angel’s curse have done  _that?_  I would’ve  _killed_  to see him all tiny and wooden and helpless.”

Xander snorted and Buffy elbowed the vampire, while Willow tried to change the subject. “And ever since then you’ve been a living dummy?” She asked.

Sid nodded. “The kid – and your vamp, I guess — were right all along,” he agreed. “I shoulda picked you to team up with. But I didn’t because…”

“Because you thought  _I_  was the demon,” Buffy finished dryly.

Sid shrugged. “Who can blame me for thinking?” He asked. “Look at you! You’re strong, athletic, limber…nubile…” He trailed off, staring at Buffy in a way that made Spike growl threateningly. “I’m back!” The dummy protested, jumping slightly. “In any case, now that this demon’s got the heart and brain, he gets to keep the human form he’s in for another seven years.”

Giles chuckled as he went to tend the teakettle. “I must say, it’s a welcome change to have someone else take the lead in explanations.”

“There were seven of these guys,” Sid continued. “I’ve killed six. If I can get the last one, the curse will be lifted and I’ll be free. I’m sure it’s someone in that stupid talent show.”

Buffy frowned. “Yeah, but now that demon has what he wants. He’ll be moving on.”

“So,” Sid said in that annoyed-but-patient tone. “Once we know who’s missing from the show…”

“We’ll know who our demon is!” Buffy finished, grinning.

Giles gasped suddenly, eyes widening. “The show!” He yelped, and everyone turned to look at him.

“What?” Spike asked, eyebrow rising.

“It’s gonna start!” Giles explained hurriedly. “I’m supposed to be there!”

Buffy nodded. “Okay, um, Will, start pulling everyone’s addresses in the talent show. I-If they’re not there, maybe we can catch them at home.”

“And you,” Sid said, gesturing at Giles. “Get ‘em all on stage, form the power circle. Then we can see who’s a no-show.”

Giles blinked. “Um, the, uh…the what?”

Sid rolled his eyes. “The power circle. You get everyone together, you get ‘em, you know, revved up.”

Giles still looked incredibly confused, but hurried off, the rest of them – save for Willow, who was working on the computer, following. Xander took his spot with the other teens running around getting ready, while Spike, Buffy, and Sid perched up on the catwalk above the stage to watch the circle and see who wasn’t there.

“So, what’s your deal, kid?” Sid asked Buffy suddenly. “I don’t figure you for a demon hunter.”

Spike and Buffy exchanged looks over his head, and answered in unison. “The Slayer.”

“You?! You’re the Slayer? She’s the Slayer?” Sid gasped in surprise, looking back and forth, and the two nodded. “Damn!” He grinned, an eerie expression on a dummy. “I knew a Slayer in the 30s. Korean chick. Very hot. We’re talking  _muscle_  tone. Man, we had some times— ow!” He yelped, given that Spike had smacked him upside the head, hard. “That was pre-dummy, alright? Now, I was a guy!”

Buffy tried to ignore the commentary. “So, you kill the demon and the curse is lifted, right?”

“That’s the drill,” Sid agreed.

Buffy frowned. “You don’t actually turn into a prince, do you?” She asked. “I-I mean, your body…”

“Is dust and bones,” Sid confirmed. “When I say free…”

Buffy’s frown deepened. “You mean dead.”

“Don’t get sniffly on me, sis,” Sid said with a snort. “I’ve lived a lot longer than most demon hunters. Or Slayers, for that matter.”

Buffy’s expression changed, and she looked down, biting her lip. Spike reached out to put his hand on her shoulder, but stopped partway there, retracting his hand. Sid, though, had no such compunctions, putting his hand on her knee. “Of course,” he said, smirking. “If you want to snuggle up and comfort me…”

“Oi!” Spike said, annoyed, and Buffy gingerly removed the dummy’s hand.

“So that horny dummy thing really  _isn’t_  an act, is it?” She asked, eyebrows raised.

Sid laughed. “Nope!”

“Yuck!” Buffy made a face, before the three of them glanced down to the stage, watching Giles clumsily attempt the power circle…and it seemed that no one was missing. The three exchanged a look, as confused as Giles, before Buffy stood. “Hold on, you two,” she directed, and leaped down to the stage to speak to Giles.

Sid turned to Spike. “So, I’d ask what makes a vampire as infamous as you switch sides, but hey. I think I know the answer to that one.” He grinned again. “Third one too hot to kill, then, eh?”

“Oh, shut up,” Spike snapped, but then sighed. “Somethin’ like that. Not for lack of tryin’, but…shit happens, you know? Woke up one night an’, well…here I am, her trusty sidekick, in a manner of speakin’. Always been a right idiot when it comes to love, yeah?”

Sid laughed. “Well, she is a feisty one, I’ll give her that. And hot, too. Bit young, yet, but when she comes into her own,  _man._  I envy you. My time with Miss Korea was nowhere  _near_  long enough. You ever had a Slayer? And I mean, uh, not in the kill ‘em to death way.”

Honestly, the question was entirely inappropriate, and a bit personal, but Buffy was out of earshot, and it was good to commiserate. “Yeah,” he said with a slightly bitter grin. “Oh, yeah. Best I’ve ever had, too. But it wasn’t long enough…” He glanced over at the dummy. “Never gonna be long enough, not with a Slayer.”

“Yeah,” Sid admitted, a note of melancholy. “They’re like fireworks, aren’t they? Hot and larger than life and utterly gorgeous to watch, but they burn fast…and then all that’s left is a memory.”

The two men were silent, somehow managing a quiet understanding, before Spike spoke again, his voice soft but determined. “ _She’s_  not gonna burn fast, though. Not as long as I’m here. I’m gonna make damn sure she lives to be…hell, I’m gonna make sure she’s the longest-lived Slayer on record. An’ I don’t care if that means I dust. If she makes it, then I succeeded.”

“Damn, son, you’ve got it bad,” Sid said with a laugh, though it was almost impressed. “She must be something special. Hang on to her—” He stopped looking up suddenly. “I don’t think we’re done here just yet, vamp. C’mon and let’s have another look around.”

Spike nodded shortly, grabbing Sid by the collar and heading down the catwalk and into the backstage area. It was empty, dark, and quiet – and Spike had to admit, it just lent to the suspicion that they hadn’t quite seen the last of the demon.

He wasn’t sure how long they’d been searching every inch of the backstage area, but finally, they heard the sounds of a fight, and Sid immediately bolted in that direction, the vampire right behind him. Spike rounded a corner just in time to watch the dummy launch himself at the demon – he didn’t recognize the boy, but by the props in the area, he guessed it was the magician kid – who was attacking Buffy, while Willow frantically tried to undo the restraints holding Giles to the guillotine, while Xander clung to the rope holding the blade. Glancing back and forth between the fight and the trapped Giles, he let out a quiet growl and ran over to the guillotine, nudging Willow out of the way before grabbing the restraints and tearing them apart with a few rough tugs.

Giles scrambled out of the way of the blade, Spike grabbing his arms to help, just as Buffy kicked the demon right where Giles had been only moments before. “Let go, Xander!” She yelled, and he complied, letting the blade drop and neatly slicing the demon’s head off.

There was a long silence, everyone staring at the headless demon. Giles coughed, finally, adjusting his glasses as Spike awkwardly let go of his arms. “Uh..” He began. “I must say, all of you… Your t-timing is impeccable.”

“No worries, Rupert,” Spike said quietly, glancing over at Sid, who had climbed on top of the demon’s chest with his knife.

“And now for the big finish,” he declared. Buffy frowned, confused.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

Sid glanced up at her. “It’s not enough,” he explained. “He’ll come back. You have to get the heart. Then all of this’ll be over.” Buffy nodded, holding out her hand for the knife, but Sid shook his head. “I got it,” he said solemnly. “Thanks.”

He hesitated a moment, and then plunged the knife deep into the demon’s chest. He started to move back, to strike a second time…but it seemed like he’d hit the heart the first time, as he slumped over, the curse broken, the puppet lifeless and empty. Buffy sighed, looking sad, and the rest of the group matched her expression, Giles respectfully removing his glasses. She picked Sid up, cradling him in her arms, and when she looked up her eyes met Spike’s, and he understood what she was thinking.

“It’s over,” she said quietly to Sid, though it took her a moment to look down at him and start to walk away.

Of course, the curtain chose that moment to rise, and all of them were thoroughly embarrassed, given the audience was completely full. They did eventually manage to get off the stage, clean it all up, and let the actual show go on – and much to Spike’s amusement and pity, the trio’s act was an attempt to do a scene from  _Oedipus Rex_ , which failed miserably. But hey, the show went on, and no one else was dead. Well…almost.

\--------------------------------

He got back to his apartment that night, surprised to see Buffy sitting next to his door, the lifeless Sid in her lap. “…Buffy?” He asked, and she looked up with a weak smile.

“Hey,” she said, standing. “I wanted to, uh…give you Sid. Mom would wig if she found him in my room, and, uh…I guess I just thought of you. If you could hang onto him…?”

He smiled back, slightly, unlocking his door. “Sure,” he said with a nod. “I’ll keep an eye on him. Not like he’s goin’ anywhere, but…figure we can give him a little respect, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, coming in behind him and putting Sid on the counter. She stared at the dummy for a moment, hands in her pockets, before she continued, not looking up. “What he said…Slayers really don’t live long, do they? I mean I kinda knew that, but…and we don’t get much help, do we? Heck, ‘short life expectancy’ is included with the demon hunter starter kit, isn’t it? It comes with the package. I just…” She trailed off, biting her lip. “I don’t wanna think about it. I’m only sixteen. It’s…”

“Scary,” he finished, coming over to stand next to her. “I know. I know a bit about Slayers, an’ a lot of what I know I’m not gonna tell you yet, ‘cause you’re right. You’re only sixteen. You’re too young to be thinkin’ about that stuff. But one thing I can promise you, Buffy…you’re gonna live a long, long life.” He turned to her and she looked up at him, startled at the intensity in his eyes. “I promise you, Buffy. I’ll make sure of it. You’re gonna live a long time, I swear. An’ one thing about me…I always keep my promises.”

She blinked, managing a more genuine smile. “I bet you do, Spike,” she said. For the first time, for a moment, his love for her didn’t scare her – he promised she’d live, and she knew he’d keep that promise. It was…reassuring. “Thanks.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, smiling back. “Jus’ head on home, or on patrol or whatever you gotta be doin’. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She nodded. “Yup. See you tomorrow.” She started to head towards the door, but stopped suddenly, turning back and moving to give Spike a quick hug, before leaving.

He stared after her for a moment, blinking, and then leaned against the counter, looking over at the silent dummy. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “She really  _is_  somethin’ special.”


	8. Night Terrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY. I've been so excited for this chapter, mostly because I confess, I love torturing my favorite characters. Who doesn't? And boy, does this chapter have some prime Spike tormenting. It is all about their worst nightmares, after all. I think a few unasked questions will be answered here, actually! Which will be fun. I hope you enjoy, because I sure did. (Also, completely not sorry for the emotional wringer I put Spike through. So worth it.)
> 
> Chapter contains dialogue from the episode 'Nightmares' by Joss Whedon. Credit for Whistler dialogue (edited for style) again goes to my lovely beta/sounding board, Historia.

The day had not started out incredibly well – he’d woken up with a shout that morning, having fallen out of his bed thanks to a vivid nightmare, tangled up in the sheets. He took a moment to appreciate the tile floor, slightly more comfortable than the stone or rock of his crypt or the concrete of Buffy’s basement, before picking himself up and trying to shake the nightmare. It was actually one he’d had before, almost every night the first week or so he’d been in this Sunnydale, but it had almost stopped…until now. ****

It felt like a bad omen, he decided. The rest of the morning was relatively normal, and as usual he got to the library before dawn. It would be a few hours, as usual, before Giles arrived, and having had very little sleep, he put his head down on the table for a moment.

The sun woke him up, and he let out a frantic cry as his eyes opened to smoke. The sun was bright in the skylight above him, and he fell back in his chair, already on fire – and then he wasn’t. He lay there on his elbows, eyes wide in confused shock as he stared up at the skylight, the sun only just beginning to rise…not at all the vicious noonday sun he’d opened his eyes to.

“What the  _hell?”_  He mumbled, picking himself up gingerly, inspecting his arms for burns he actually didn’t have. A movement in the library door caught his eye, and he looked up – he didn’t see anything, really, just a glimmer of movement at child height. But his eyes narrowed suspiciously. Normally he’d go look, but he was still shaken by the sunlight incident on top of his nightmare.

When Giles arrived, Spike filled him in on what had happened – not the nightmare, of course – and the librarian frowned. “How odd…but perhaps it was a dream. Did you sleep well last night?” He caught Spike’s expression, knowing the answer, and put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Spike. It was most likely a daydream brought on by exhaustion. If you’d like, you can help yourself to some tea – apparently a boy was accosted yesterday by spiders coming out of his book, and we’ll need to find out why.”

“R-Right, Rupert,” Spike agreed, going over to the teakettle while Giles disappeared into the stacks. Yeah…he was probably right. It was just another dream. He really hadn’t slept well last night, so… Maybe it was his ridiculous sleeping schedule catching up with him. He wasn’t completely convinced, but it wasn’t like he had any other explanation. At least making tea kept him from having to go research spiders. Ha ha, no.

Later in the day, he glanced up from his, er…well, he’d had a lot of tea. It didn’t actually do much, but it was something to do, since Giles hadn’t yet returned from the stacks, and the nightmare(s) really had shaken him a bit. In any case, Buffy and the others’ arrival was a welcome distraction.

“Well, Giles said he was gonna look it up,” Buffy was saying. “Giles?” They all looked around, frowning.

“Hey, Spike, where’s Giles?” Willow asked. “Did he go to the faculty room or something?”

He shook his head, frowning. “Nah, he went to look up your spider problem this mornin’. Haven’t seen him since…” He stood, glancing back at the bookshelves. “Rupert?”

The man in question finally materialized, looking a little rumpled and rather bewildered. “I, uh, here I am,” he said, a little confused. “My apologies, I was in the stacks.” A pause, and Spike was the only one who could hear his quiet admission. “I got lost.”

“Did you find any theories on spiders coming out of books?” Xander asked, reaching around to drape his arm across Willow’s shoulder, wiggling his fingers to imitate the bug. “Y’know…big, hairy, crawly…”

He was interrupted by Willow yelping, and then spinning to smack him. He winced, grinning slightly. “It’s funny if you’re me,” he tried to explain.

“I couldn’t find anything, uh…particularly illuminating,” Giles said, still looking baffled. “Um, I think perhaps you’d best have a chat with Wendell himself.”

Buffy nodded, giving Giles a weird look. “Okay,” she agreed. “If he can still talk.” The three departed, leaving Giles and Spike alone, the librarian glancing warily back at the stacks. Spike patted his shoulder.

“Still think it was just a dream, mate?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “’Cause you look pretty out of it. Lost in the stacks?”

Giles frowned. “I, ah…I don’t really know. We’ll have to wait for Buffy’s input…” He murmured, walking over to pour himself some tea. “In the meantime, I may need to sit down for a few moments.”

“Feel free,” Spike joked quietly, sitting next to him. “Today’s been strange, hasn’t it?”

And strange it was, especially when a girl was attacked in the basement. Spike immediately felt slightly uncomfortable, but reminded himself that that had been the basement of the  _other_ Sunnydale High, the one built after they blew this one up, not this one. And he had been in the library, anyway.

Giles went with Buffy to talk to the girl in the hospital during lunch, and Spike continued to wait in the library, pacing in frustration. He didn’t like this. At all. Something was going on, and he wasn’t sure what, but it gave him…it freaked him out, safe to say. Though part of him was reminding him he was probably just thrown off by the nightmare, and he was overreacting…he wasn’t sure that he was.

Giles eventually got back, explaining about the attacker’s words of ‘lucky nineteen’, and the comatose first victim, and the two men started pulling old newspapers, to see if they could find any links. Spike was reading one of the papers, one from last week, when he looked up to see Giles’ eyes wide, staring blankly at another paper and rubbing his face – he looked panicked.

“…Rupert?” He asked.

Giles shook his head. “This can’t be happening,” he muttered. “This can’t be…” What it couldn’t be was interrupted by Buffy walking in, looking curious.

“What’s the word?” She asked, and Giles shook his head, still staring at the paper.

“We, uh, we’ve got back issues of the, uh, papers to- to try to do some research,” he explained to her.

“Did you find anything?” She asked, and Giles’ head-shaking grew more frantic.

“I don’t know,” he said, voice cracking.

Buffy and Spike both frowned, worried. “You don’t know if you didn’t find anything,” Buffy said slowly, looking concerned.

“I’m having a problem,” Giles replied, strained and panicky.

Spike looked over at him. “What kinda problem?” He asked, and Giles took a step back from the table.

“I-I can’t read!” He said finally, staring from Buffy to Spike in almost frightened frustration.

Buffy blinked. ‘What do you mean? You can read, like, three languages.”

“Five, actually, on a normal day,” Giles corrected absently, before gesturing at the table. “B-But the words here don’t make any s-sense. I-It’s gibberish!” He sank into a seat, head in hands, and Spike put his own paper down to move over to him, only for Buffy to point at the paper he’d just set down.

“That’s him,” she said suddenly, and Spike looked up.

“Who?” He asked.

She gestured at the paper. “The kid I’ve been seeing around school,” she explained, reading the article aloud. “’Twelve year old Billy Palmer was found beaten and unconscious after his kiddie league game Saturday. Doctors describe his condition as critical.’ When was this published?” She asked, looking more closely. “Last week. It says he’s in a coma in intensive care. This is the boy from the hospital!”

“The first victim?” Giles asked. “Uh…you- you’ve seen him around the school?” He frowned, even more confused on top of his distress.

Buffy nodded. “Yeah, first when the spiders got Wendell, and then when I didn’t know a thing on the history test. I thought it was weird seeing this kid around, but then I forgot about it.”

“Uh, the boy’s been in a coma for a week,” Giles pointed out. “How can this be possible?”

Buffy shrugged. “What, am I knowledge girl now? Explanations are your terrain.”

“Uh, well…” Giles looked thoughtful. “There’s astral projection, uh, the theory that while one sleeps one has another body, a-an astral body, which can travel through time and space.”

“Billy’s in a coma,” Buffy said. “That’s like sleep, right?”

Giles frowned. “In a manner of speaking, a-a-although one doesn’t always awake from a coma.” He told her.

“Could I be seeing Billy’s asteroid body?” Buffy asked.

“Astral body,” Giles corrected. “And I-I don’t know. As usual, one doesn’t have an inordinate amount of information to work with.”

Buffy frowned quietly. “Lucky nineteen,” she murmured, tapping Billy’s picture (in which he wore a jersey – 19), though any further conversation was interrupted by an unfamiliar man entering the room, his eyes training on Buffy.

“There you are!” He said, smiling slightly. “I’ve been looking everywhere. Why aren’t you in class?”

Buffy jumped, whipping around with wide eyes. “Dad, what are you doing here?” She asked, and Spike’s own eyes widened. So this was Hank Summers, legendarily deadbeat father. The man who hadn’t bothered to answer the phone when the mother of his children died. He was not inclined to like this man at all, and was instantly worried on Buffy’s behalf. “Y-You’re not supposed to pick me up till after school,” she continued. “Is something wrong?”

“Well, I-I need to talk to you,” Hank replied, and Buffy looked freaked.

“Something  _is_  wrong,” Buffy yelped. “Is it mom?” Spike bit his lip at the question, asked in innocent panic, of course…but it didn’t make the knowledge of the future hurt less.

Hank shook his head. “No, no, it’s not your mother, she’s fine,” he said reassuringly, before lowering his voice. “Could I speak with you for a moment? Privately?”

“Um, sure! Yeah,” she relied quickly, glancing over at Giles and Spike. “Oh, uh! I’m sorry. Dad, this is Mr. Giles, the librarian, a-and this is his, uh, assistant—”

“William,” Spike said smoothly, and offered his hand along with Giles. “Our pleasure, Mr. Summers.”

Hank shook both their hands, smiling pleasantly, which just made Spike want to punch him more. “Likewise,” he said, before turning back to Buffy, who nodded.

“I’ll be back,” she said, and the two walked out of the room.

Spike glared after them for a moment, sighing. “I really don’t like that man,” he said finally, sitting down. “D’you want to try lookin’ at the papers again?”

They did try for another few minutes, until Xander and Willow came in, Xander pulling on a gym shirt to go with rumpled sweats and sneakers. “Red alert!” He said frantically. “Where’s Buffy?”

“Her dad came by to talk to her, they stepped out for a mo’,” Spike explained, eyebrows raised. “What the hell happened to you, Harris? Where’s your clothes go?”

Xander snorted. “Oh, don’t I wish I had the answer to  _that_  question,” he said dryly, and Willow nodded.

“Xander kinda found himself in front of our class not wearing much of anything,” she explained, and Spike snorted in disbelief.

Xander glared at him, but nodded. “Yup. Except my underwear,” he clarified.

“Yeah! It was really…” Willow giggled, but then glanced at Xander in embarrassment. “Um, bad. It was a bad thing.”

Xander groaned. “’Bad thing’?” He asked. “I was naked. ‘Bad thing’ doesn’t cover it.”

“Everyone staring?” Willow asked, nodding. “I would hate to have everyone paying attention to me like that.”

Xander shuddered. “With nudity! It’s a total nightmare.”

Willow and Spike seemed to come to the exact same realization, eyes widening and looking at each other in surprise. “Well, yeah, Xander!” Willow exclaimed. “I-it’s your nightmare!” They all looked at her, and she elaborated. “Like what happened to Wendell. That thing with the spiders? Wendell had a recurring dream about that.”

“I-I dreamed that I got lost in the stacks and I-I couldn’t read…” Giles mused, and then gasped. “Of course!”

Xander blinked. “Uh, our dreams are coming true?” He asked, and Giles shook his head.

“Dreams? That would be a musical comedy version of this,” he said, no one noticing Spike’s flinch at the terminology.  _Oh, god, please no more musicals_ , he thought desperately. “Nightmares— our…our nightmares are coming true.”

Willow frowned. “So why is this happening?” She asked.

“Billy,” Giles said, tapping the newspaper on the table.

Xander blinked. “Well, that explanation was shorter than usual,” he noted. “It’s Billy!” There was a pause. “…Who’s Billy?”

“He’s a boy in the local hospital,” Giles explained. “He was beaten. He’s in a coma. Somehow I think he’s crossed over from the nightmare world he’s trapped in.”

Spike sighed. “An’ he brought th’ nightmares with him.  _Great_   _job_ , kid.”

“How could he do that?” Willow asked.

Giles shrugged. “Things like that are easy when you live on a Hellmouth,” he said quietly.

“Well, we have to stop it,” Xander said, and Giles nodded.

“And soon. Or else everyone in Sunnydale is gonna be facing their own worst nightmares,” Giles said quietly.

Spike swallowed, remembering his own nightmare. He’d…really, really rather not. They needed to get this fixed and soon, before…nope. No. they’d stop it before then, they had to.

“We have to find Buffy,” Willow suggested, and the four of them immediately left the library to do just that.

Giles was frowning. “Buffy doesn’t know this is happening,” he said, concerned. “And given the sort of things that she tends to dream about, it’s imperative that we find her.”

“Agreed,” Spike said. Yeah, he remembered Buffy’s nightmares from when he was around. But those were an older Buffy’s…god only knew what this one’s were.

Xander pointed down a hall. “Probably faster if we split up to look for her,” he suggested, and Giles nodded.

“Good idea,” he said, and they all split up, leaving Spike and Willow alone.

They exchanged looks. “Uh…faster,” she muttered. “But not really safer.”

“Well, I ain’t goin’ anywhere, Red,” Spike reassured her. “Let’s see if we can’t find Buffy an’ keep the other boys outta trouble.”

She nodded, and the two headed through the hallways, looking in classrooms and such for the others. They headed down the stairs, pausing and watching with some amusement as Cordelia was commandeered by the chess club. At least some people had shallow nightmares. As they continued down that hall, he caught Willow pausing.

“Willow!” A voice called, and both of them turned to look around. “Willow!”

Willow frowned, walking over to the basement door, where the voice was coming from. Spike paused, hurrying after her. “Red, no, it’s…it’s probably a nightmare,” he said worriedly – more about going into the basement than anything else. “C’mon, let’s—”

“Willow!” The voice called again. “Spike!”

The two exchanged looks, and against better judgment, they headed into the dim basement below.

“Buffy?” Willow called. “Hello?” They walked through the hall, and she frowned, before looking over at Spike with a grin. “I’m not afraid,” she told him brightly. “I think it might be ‘cause of you, ‘cause you think I would be, but I’m not—”

She was cut off by a hand grabbing her by the shoulder and pulling her into the shadows. She let out a scream, and Spike was off after her like a shot. “Red!” He bellowed.  _“Red!”_

But she wasn’t there. Wasn’t anywhere. He hissed a curse under his breath, heading further into the basement. “Red! Where are you!? You alright!?” He called, hating the darkness and the smell and being uncomfortably reminded of the last time he was in a high school basement. He swallowed, and then paused, hearing a noise. “…Red?” He called quietly. But there was no answer; instead, the noise got louder. And louder. A skittering, scratching noise, low to the ground. A chill ran down his spine, and he forced himself to look down.

“— _No_ ,” he choked out, taking a step back, hearing the beetles smash under his foot but there were more of them, countless black beetles, thick and deadly and familiar in the worst way, swarming him, climbing up his legs, and he staggered back, tripping, and he was on the ground and they were all over him, and he bit back a frantic scream – he did  _not_  scream in terror – as they began to cover him, over his arms and chest, under his shirt, under his skin again, across his face, and he was frantically fighting them, snatching one or two off and throwing them as far as he could, but two more took their places.

“No!” He cried again, desperately. “Get off me! Get off!  _Get off!_  I won! I won, bloody hell, I  _won,_ make ‘em  _stop_ , make ‘em go away! Goddamn it, make ‘em go a—” He was cut off by one crawling into his mouth, and his cries turned to whimpers, eyes screwed shut as he fought against the wave of insects, the black bugs from the trials – he’d won, of course, but they had not left him unscathed. He’d probably never be able to look at an insect again after them, and now…and now here they were. Tormenting him again.

But then they wee gone. Gone…and he was lying on the ground, shaking, staring up at the ceiling. And then another voice.

“Hello, lover.” He froze, refusing to look. “Oh, that’s no way to greet me. Not even a glance my way. Wow, rude, Spike. I mean, this is your nightmare. You could try to  _engage_  it a little, mm?”

He shakily pulled himself up to kneeling, and finally looked. Yeah…his nightmare, alright. There she sat, in black pants and gold top, older and wiser and not  _her_  at all – the First. His nightmare of the First, dressed as Buffy. She laughed, crossing her arms. “Well, this is fun,” she declared. “I remember this business. Woo, nightmares. Scary. I mean, I’m scarier, but hey. That kid sure knows how to throw a party.”

“Shut up,” he snarled. “You’re not real. You’re an nightmare of an illusion. You’re less real than you ever were, so shut the hell up.”

The First put its hand on its chest. “Ouch. Mean,” she taunted. “That’s okay, though. I may be a figment of a figment, but I’m real enough to hurt. I mean…where is Will, anyway? Somewhere down in this spooky ol’ basement…and I do love me a good basement. Especially one stocked up full of a nice crazy vampire I can sic on his friends.  _Love_  that bonus feature.”

“You— you can’t,” Spike snapped weakly, staggering to his feet. “You can’t do that. I got rid of the trigger. You can’t do that. You’re a nightmare, you’re not real. You can’t hurt me. You can’t…you _can’t._  You can’t hurt them, either.”

The First just laughed. “Ooh. Wanna test that?” It asked. “Hmm…now how did it go?” It tapped its chin thoughtfully, before starting to sing, low and mocking.  _“Early one morning, just as the sun was rising, I heard a young maiden, in the valley below…”_

“Shut up!” Spike snarled, taking a warning step forward. “You’re not real, stop bloody singing!”

It ignored him, grin widening.  _“Oh, don’t deceive me, oh, never leave me, how could you use a poor maiden so?”_

Spike let out a snarl of rage, forgetting he couldn’t touch the First, and pounced at the image of Buffy, who started laughing – and then he was on the ground, vamped out, and Willow was underneath him, her eyes wide in shock and fear.

They stared at each other for a very long moment, before Spike leaped back, banging into the wall and staring in horror at her, dropping out of game face. “Oh— oh god,” he said, his voice cracking. “Oh, god. Red, oh god. A-are you okay? Oh,  _god_ …” He trailed off, burying his face in his hands. A moment or so later, he felt a hand on his shoulder, a weight next to him, and he peeked up to see Willow sitting beside him, her hand on his arm and a reassuring smile on her face.

“It’s okay,” she told him. “I’m fine. I-I was running away from, from a play, uh, they made me sing, a-and then bam, you were on top of me a-and fangy. You didn’t hurt me, I was just a bit freaked,” she laughed nervously. “Boy, these nightmares sure are vivid. What was, uh…what was yours?”

Spike sighed shakily. “You mean besides a bunch of bugs eatin’ me alive?” He asked quietly, voice brittle, and Willow’s eyes widened. “It’s…no one— nothin’ I hope you ever find out about. But the gist is…it wanted to make me hurt you. All of you. An’…that’s what scared me. Losin’ it an’ hurting you lot.” He shuddered, hating the memories. Willow seemed to notice his distress, and hugged him.

“It’s okay. It was just a nightmare,” she reassured him, before pausing. “Though, we, uh…we should probably hurry and fix this before stuff stops being just nightmares. Right?”

Spike nodded. “Y-Yeah, let’s.”

He stood on still-shaky legs, helping her up, and they hurried back out of the basement – only to run into Xander.

“Did you find Buffy?” He asked frantically.

Spike shook his head. “Lotta nightmares down there, but no Buffy,” he said simply, and Xander nodded hurriedly.

“R-Right. C’mon, let’s— let’s go find the others, okay?” He asked, throwing a glance behind him.

Willow looked worried. “What happened to you?” She asked, and Xander laughed weakly.

“Remember my sixth birthday party?” He asked, and she nodded.

“Yeah!” She laughed softly. “When the clown chased you and you got so scared that you had to…” She stopped, her eyes wide. “Oh!”

Said clown seemed to appear behind them as if mention of him had summoned him there, slicing through a bit of plastic hanging from the ceiling with a knife and sending the three tearing down the hall. They whipped around a corner, though, and nearly all tripped over themselves to come to a halt before they ran smack into the smallish man in the loud shirt standing in the middle of the hallway.

Willow and Xander stared at him in confusion, while Spike’s blood went cold. “Whistler,” he said hoarsely. “What…?”

Xander blinked. “Whistler?” He asked. “The dude who brought you here?” He turned to look at the little man. “Now is not a good time, buddy, can you be kinda quick about it? We have a killer clown on our tails.”

“Did I, or did I not, warn you about telling her?” The demon said, voice sharp with annoyance. “You can’t change the big events.” His eyes glanced over to Xander, before they focused on Spike again, pinning him where he stood with his gaze. “I warned you that if you changed too much, you wouldn’t be necessary here anymore, and yet…you went and told her anyway. After everything I said, you still ignored me – ignored the PTB – and did your own thing.” His eyes narrowed. “It’s time to go back, Spike.”

Oh, god. This was it. This was his nightmare. A different start, yeah, but…this was it. What had tormented his sleep those first couple weeks, what he’d dreamed about last night…oh, god, no. He had to stay calm, though, that meant that it wasn’t really happening…it wasn’t happening. But oh, god. He swallowed. “No,” he protested weakly. “You can’t…you can’t do that. You’re just my nightmare, you…you can’t. You can’t send me back.”

Whistler raised an eyebrow. “I can’t?” He asked blandly. “But isn’t that where you’ve been slipping back into at night? I’m an agent of the Powers That Be, in case you forgot, and most importantly…I keep things balanced.” He started approaching Spike, his pace slow, and his head tilted just low enough to hide his eyes in the shadow cast by the brim. “You’ve let in too much light, see? Now I have to close the curtains.”

“No!” Spike protested again, loudly, taking a step back. “You can’t— you can’t do this! I did the right thing! You bloody bastard, I did right by her! Who cares about your balance when I helped save her pain!” He took another step, fully aware of his voice shaking, and his hands, but he couldn’t look anywhere but Whistler. “You can’t send me back! You can’t!”

Another step back, another step forward, and then Willow and Xander were standing between the demon and the vampire. “Hey, jerk,” Xander told him. “Your balance is stupid. We kinda want to keep Spike, thanks. He’s our friend, and he’s helped a lot. We’re not gonna let you send him back to…” He paused, worry seeping into his face. “Where are you trying to send him? I mean, either way, not gonna happen, but…where the hell even was he?”

Whistler just smiled. “You just answered your own question,” he told them.

It took Xander a minute, and then he and Willow exchanged horrified looks. “H-He was in Hell?!” Willow squeaked, eyes wide. “B-But why?! You said he saved the world! Why was he  _there?!”_

“And why do you think we’re gonna let you put him  _back_  there?!” Xander added. “No friend of ours is ever gonna be in hell, ever! That’s like…no  _way_ , man! So back off!”

“Well, first of all, he’s a  _vampire_ ,” Whistler pointed out. “His crimes and his soul condemn him. No matter what he does, he won’t escape the fire. Simply because he got himself a soul and saved the world doesn’t mean he’s redeemed of all his sins, you know.”

“…Oh, right,” Xander said, blinking. “Vampire. Forgot.” He hesitated, then looked indignant. “Hey! Still not gonna let you send him back! He’s a vampire, but he’s  _our_  vampire, and- and wow I just said that. Still valid! He’s ours and you can’t have him and neither can Hell. So there.”

“And  _you’re_  going to stop me?” Whistler asked. “I work for the good guys, and the good guys say he’s gotta go.” He turned his glare from Spike to the two teens in front of him. “I’ve gotten used to taking care of the PTB’s dirty laundry, so I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay knocking out a couple of kids if I have to.”

Xander and Willow exchanged looks, before looking as determined as a pair of terrified teens can look. “Yeah, we so are.” Xander declared. “I’m getting used to getting knocked out, sadly, but I think I can manage if we can protect Spike from his stupid nightmare. And besides, you’re a little less scary then the killer clown. In fact…” With a burst of courage, the two kids charged Whistler – well, Xander, mostly – and dove at him…only for him to vanish as soon as Xander bodychecked him, the boy sprawling on the floor. “Ow.” He mumbled.

“But hey, he’s gone!” Willow chirped. “Let’s keep running, I think the killer clown is still behind us, and also we have to still find Giles and Buffy.”

Spike nodded, pulling himself together. “Y-Yeah…let’s go find them,” he muttered, and both teens turned to stare at him. “…What?” He asked.

“You never told us you were in…you were  _there_ ,” Willow said slowly. “I-I mean…he- he gave us the impression that it was like…y-you died, and then you were here. No in-between, b-but you were…oh, man.” It sure explained a lot, she realized. Especially those first couple weeks, when he barely spoke to them and looked so empty. He was doing a lot better now, but…wow. Poor Spike.

Spike shrugged, motioning for them to keep moving, and they did. “Why would I?” He asked. “It’s not like it’s somethin’ I’d wanna dwell on. I’m not there, an’ I ain’t going back. End of story. But yeah, I was there between dyin’ and comin’ here.” he paused. “I died in May, I think it was,” he explained, hoping they’d connect the dots so he wouldn’t have to.

“May…and this is May. And you got here back in March, so….jeez, that’s almost a year you were there. Ouch,” Xander winced, but one look at Spike’s face made him reconsider. “…Or more than a year?”

“Time goes differently in hell dimensions,” he explained quietly. “A day out here…it’s a hundred years in there.”

There was a tiny matched set of ‘oh’s from the teens as they realized, Willow doing some mental math and her eyes bulging at the results. “That’s like…a lot of years,” she whispered. “Oh, wow…”

“Conversation’s over,” Spike called to them, and they hurried to catch up. “All I’m gonna say is to ask you not to tell anyone else, got it? Not somethin’ I want to be common knowledge. Keep quiet about it, yeah?”

Two nods, and they all fell silent, turning the corner…and nearly running into the killer clown again. Xander screamed shrilly, and they bolted back the way they’d come, whipping around a corner and smack into Giles.

“No sign of Buffy?” He asked, but there was no time to answer, and they just grabbed him and dragged him away. They got to the end of the hall, and stopped, and Xander apparently rediscovered the bravery that had sent him tackling the nightmare Whistler, because then he turned to march right back up to the clown and punch it right in the face, knocking it out.

“You are a lousy clown!” He yelled at it. “Your balloon animals are pathetic! Everyone can make a giraffe!”

Spike grabbed Xander’s arm, and they all ran out of the building.

“I feel good!” Xander said, grinning, when they stopped to catch their breaths. “I feel liberated!”

Giles rolled his eyes, glancing around at the people running past them. “You seem to be the only one,” he said dryly. “Things are getting worse. In a few hours reality will fold completely into the real of nightmares.”

“Well, what do we do?” Willow asked.

Giles sighed. “The only thing I can think is to try and wake Billy,” he said.

“Uh, no,” Xander said slowly. “We can’t leave without Buffy.”

Giles nodded. “Agreed, but who knows where she might have gone.”

There was silence, but then Spike spoke up. “Uh…how ‘bout the graveyard across th’ street that I know isn’t supposed to be there?”

They all looked…and blinked. And then noticed something else. “…Wait, when did it turn into night?” Willow asked.

They exchanged looks and shrugs, end entered the cemetery. Their footsteps took them through the quiet graves, looking around at them. “Whose nightmare is this?” Xander asked, but there was no answer. There was no answer, because those whose nightmare it was had just realized it…and why.

The two men stared blankly at the single, innocent grave in front of them, plain, simple, and marked with only a name and dates –  _Buffy Summers, 1981-1997._

Spike felt his legs give out, and then he was kneeling in the grass, unable to tear his eyes away. He could feel Giles join him on the ground, but he hardly even heard anything being said, Giles confirming it was theirs or speaking to the others, maybe explaining why. He didn’t hear. He knew it was a nightmare, knew it wasn’t real, but…oh god. It wasn’t a nightmare, to him, not just a nightmare…it was also a  _memory._  He felt his eyes prickle and his vision blurred and he tried to fight it, bringing a hand to his face to stem the tears, a choked sob escaping him anyway. No, no, no. No. this wasn’t happening, this couldn’t— he wouldn’t let it. He swore never to have to stand by her grave again, and here it was in his nightmares, and— and nightmares were becoming real, god, what if she really was— no. No, she couldn’t. It was too soon. She couldn’t be. But…but…oh, god.

“Buffy…” He whispered hoarsely, eyes squeezed shut against the tears and the pain. There was a scream from very far away, and he shifted, but his eyes didn’t open, not until he heard  _her_  voice.

“I thought I was dead!” She gasped out, her voice shaking, and he wanted to hug her. Did she have to dig her way up? Oh, god,  _again_ …why did the world do this to her?

Willow let out a horrorstruck gasp. “Buffy, your face!” She yelped, and he half-wondered what could have happened, his eyes still closed, hand still pressed to them.

“Oh, God!” Buffy screamed, and then he did look up. Her face was in her hands, hidden from view, but she was shaking visibly, and the others looked horrified and concerned.

Xander took a step or two towards her. “Buffy…” He tried, but she shook her head fiercely, turning away.

“Don’t look at me!” She begged, voice thick with unshed tears. Giles managed to stand, reaching out to her, but she stepped backwards again.

Giles looked pained, incredibly worried, and Spike – still dazed with the shock of dealing with her grave again – wondered absently what he hadn’t seen. “You never told me…” Giles began. “You never told me you dreamed of becoming a vampire,” he said slowly, and Spike could have easily stopped breathing as his head whipped towards Buffy again.

“This isn’t a dream,” she choked out, and he could hear the rasp of fangs in her voice, and suddenly he desperately wanted to throw up. What more could they possibly do to her? To him? To all of them? Christ, he wanted this day to end.

Giles looked solemn. “No,” he agreed. “No, it’s not. But there’s a chance that we can make it go away. This all comes from Billy. Now, if-if we can only wake him up, I believe that the nightmares will stop and reality will shift back into place, but we must do it now! I need you – all of you,”  he added, glancing down at Spike. “—to hold together long enough to help us. Can you do that?”

Buffy finally looked up, and seeing her in game face – a fact that he distantly registered would have probably made him incredibly happy a few scant years ago – made his stomach lurch like he’d had the wind knocked out of him. She nodded slowly. “Yeah…I think I can,” she agreed, and then looked at Spike, vampiric face twisting in concern. “Spike? You okay? Can you— can you manage?”

“I-I…” He tried, rocking to his feet and wiping his eyes on the back of his hand, swallowing thickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m…I can do this,” he told them.

“Thank you,” Giles said quietly, and they all started to head towards the hospital.

Buffy smiled slightly. “We better hurry,” she said quietly, the only sign she was joking the spark in her eyes. “’Cause I’m getting hungry.”

Spike managed a choked laugh, heading after her, Xander’s eyes wide. “That is a joke, right?” He asked nervously, and Spike just grinned at him weakly, preferring not to listen to Willow’s concerns. It would be alright. All they had to do was wake the kid up…then it would all be okay.

They got to the hospital with little fanfare, the group not really speaking much; Buffy was lost in her own troubles, and so were most of the others, Spike no exception. The hospital seemed to be just as much of a mess as the rest of the town, and even the doctor apparently assigned to Billy was affected. They all entered his room, looking down at the still figure of the boy in his coma.

“What now?” Xander asked quietly.

Giles frowned. “Um…” He bent down, reaching to shake Billy gently. “Billy! Billy?"

“That won’t work,” came a voice, and they all looked up to see Billy’s astral body standing by the window. “It’s like I told her. I have to hide.”

Giles frowned. “Why?” He asked. “From what?”

“From him!” Buffy, still in the hall, yelled, and they ran to go look – and there was a hideous monster, lumbering down the hall.

Xander’s jaw dropped. “Aw, man, what do we do?!”

“I think I know,” Buffy said, taking off her jacket and handing it to Willow, who nodded. She paused, glancing out the window, her eyes widening, and she glanced back at Buffy as if to urge her to hurry. Buffy nodded back, glancing at Spike and gesturing for him to come with her.

The two stood in the hall, facing the ugly man, and Buffy grinned. “Glad you showed up!” She said cheerily, an eerie effect with the vampire’s face she was wearing. “You see, we’re both having a really bad day. Well, I kinda think mine’s worse, but hey. We’re both pretty pissed.”

“Lucky nineteen!” The ugly man snarled, and Buffy rolled her eyes.

“Scary!” She mocked. “I’ll tell you something, though. There are a lot scarier things then you.” She stepped forward. “And I’m one of them.”

Spike glanced at her and grinned slightly. “An’ so am I,” he added.

The two of them nodded at each other, charging at the monster, and together they made short work of it, knocking him unconscious after Buffy broke its club arm over her knee. Spike stood panting quietly, while Buffy stared at it, turning to look at Billy.

“I-is he dead?” The boy asked nervously.

Buffy didn’t answer, instead motioning him to come over. “Come here, Billy,” she said. “You have to do the rest.”

The boy blinked, and slowly walked over to the monster, staring at it quietly. “What are they doing?” Willow asked, but Giles shushed her.

“I get it…” Xander whispered, watching Buffy take Billy’s hand in hers.

“No more hiding,” she told him, and Billy nodded, reaching out to pull the ugly man’s face off as if removing a mask. There was a flash of bright light, and when it cleared…everyone was normal again. Buffy was human, and Xander and Willow were back in their usual clothes (Spike hadn’t even noticed Willow had been in a kimono).

Spike let out a long breath of exhausted relief, smiling weakly at Giles, who was watching Buffy feel her face with a smile. Xander blinked, looking around and grinning himself.

“Hey, he’s waking up!” Xander said, indicating Billy.

Billy slowly blinked, looking up and around at them. “I had the strangest dream,” he murmured.  “You were in it..all of you. Who are you people?”

“We’re friends, Dorothy,” Spike said quietly, and glanced up at Giles, who nodded.

“Let’s get a doctor,” he said, moving to leave, but stopped when a big, burly looking guy in a baseball cap came in.

“Oh!” He said, surprised. “Billy’s got company. Uh, I-I-I’m his kiddie league coach,” he explained. “I come by here every day, just hoping against hope that he’s gonna wake up soon. He’s, uh, my lucky nineteen.”

The group exchanged looks, and the boys’ (and Buffy’s) eyes narrowed. The coach didn’t seem to notice. “So, um, how is he?” He asked.

“He’s awake,” Buffy said coldly, stepping aside. The coach looked surprised, but she continued relentlessly. “You blamed him for losing the game. So you caught up with him afterwards, didn’t you?”

The coach looked startled, but tried to cover it. “What are you talking about?” He asked innocently.

Billy sat up, though, glaring. “You said that it was my fault that we lost,” he told his coach, and the man, realizing he was caught, tried to run, only to be grabbed roughly by the jacket by Spike. “It wasn’t my fault,” Billy continued. “There’s eight other players on the team. You know that.”

Buffy just grinned at the boy.”Nice going,” she told him, and the boy grinned back.

\--------------------------------

Once the nightmare was over and the coach was arrested, it was still the middle of the day, so Giles allowed Spike to go home early through the sewers instead of heading back to school. Buffy told him that she was going to be gone with her father that weekend, and he was okay with that – honestly, he’d probably recover from the day better without her around, despite his frantic desire to hold her and not let go until he was sure she wasn’t going anywhere. Really, he figured his best bet was to sleep all weekend, and hope that come Monday he was in a relatively stable mental condition.

So he was very surprised when he was woken from a doze by a knock on the door, and more surprised to open it to see Willow and Xander there, holding several bags of food and wearing identical smiles. “Hi!” Willow said. “Since Buffy’s gone for the weekend and all, we kinda figured we could have a, uh, post-nightmare slumber party. Here. If you don’t mind?” She added weakly. “I mean we thought you might need it, a-and we have food? Xander got chicken wings from the Bronze, he said you said you liked them.”

He blinked slowly, and Xander grinned. “Just go with it. It’s Friday night, we all just got our worst nightmares tap-danced in front of us like the world’s worst parade, you and Buffy getting it worst, and since she’s off to do some retail therapy with her dad, we come bearing junk food, sodas, my bad kung-fu movie collection, and our undeniably welcome presence. So…party?”

He couldn’t help it. A smile spread slowly across his face, and he moved to let them in. Last year, he would have never imagined this in his wildest dreams, but…here he was, and the Scoobies were here to spend time with him of their own free will, to cheer him up, even. “Yeah,” he agreed, closing the door. “That sounds good to me. What movies did you bring, anyway, Harris?”

And so, several hours of bad movies, chicken wings, Chinese food, and potato chips later, the three of them were on the floor propped up against his couch, Willow and Xander fast asleep on either side of him and all three of them wrapped in blankets off his bed.

He sighed, closing his eyes with an almost content grin on his face, draping his arm around Willow as she snuggled into his side. That feeling of belonging, the one that had settled in at the library, but not around the teens…it had finally settled. He _belonged_ here — with these kids he knew so well, but at the same time barely knew. With the people who cared about him. This was his new home, and he wasn’t going to take it for granted. He knew better.

And that night, his sleep was dreamless.


End file.
